Mop up
by Crawbster
Summary: A Hive World gangster is transferred to a penal legion after committing a heinous crime. Now, alongside countless other convicts, he is sent to the Catis Umbra system in the aftermath of a Tyranid invasion with the task of mopping up the survivors. Things take a turn for the worst when a space hulk enters the system and finds he's crash landed on a planet with no hope of rescue.
1. Chapter 1: Hive Justice

Mop up

 _996\. M41-Tyranid Splinter Fleet Ogre attacks Catis Umbra system_

 _996\. M41-Imperial Guard and space marine chapter Scythes of the Emperor arrive to combat the Tyranid threat across the system_

 _997\. M41-The combined might of the Imperial Guard and Scythes of the Emperor succeed in breaking the back of Splinter Fleet Ogre_

 _997\. M41-Penal Legions from the nearest Penal World dispatched to mop up any lingering Tyranid resistance in the system_

The tribunal had decided quickly enough. A small mercy to be sure but a mercy nonetheless. Riff could never understand how anybody could take more than an hour of the constant pompous and piety spewing of the nobles who were about to decide his fate. Hell, he thought, if he ever did understand he would put the laspistol in his mouth and gladly pull the trigger himself. He would have preferred to be sticking the laspistol in the nobles' mouth but that seemed a very unlikely event considering he was waiting outside for his sentence in a court of law surrounded by armed PDF soldiers. Word of his misdeed had apparently reached the upper hive levels as every once in a while a milling PDF soldier pretending to be busy would glare at him as if he was about to bring down the wrath of the Emperor himself.

Riff never really knew where or from whom he came from. All he knew was the hive undercities and all of their dark rat infested corners. Natural light had never graced his face until the day he was brought to the upper city for his trial. The pale yellow glow of luminators had been his only light. He was a child of the street, one of the many abandoned children left to wander the hives endless tunnels. He was one of the lucky ones who survived long enough to, naturally of course, fall in with a gang. Being in a gang didn't necessarily equate to protection however. More than once he'd found himself on the bad side of some gang leader whose favorite joygirl he had spent a pleasant evening with. It was through a combination of his tunnel rat instincts and fighting prowess that only a hive worlder could have that he was able to escape each encounter unscathed. At least until his last escapade which landed him in current hot water. Leaning back on the less than comfortable bench on which he was confined to sit until judgement was passed Riff remembered how it all started.

A couple of drunk PDF soldiers wandering around the underhive decided to use the power vested in them by the Emperor to loot a poor street merchant. Riff remembered the old geezer cowering in fear as the soldiers turned his quaint little stand upside down. He remembered his old friend Shade confronting the soldiers. He especially remembered the bloody crater in his friend's chest as one of the PDF goons shot him point blank. The fight that broke out was especially clear in his mind.

In a surge of blind anger he had grabbed the nearest PDF goon and knocked his teeth out. Soon, together with a mob of fellow gangsters, the soldiers were outnumbered two to one. The soldiers were able to crack off a few more shots before their laspistols were wrestled away. The street was filled with the noises of brutal fighting. Riff remembered as his and his fellow gangsters' punches bounced off the soldiers' flak armor. As one of the soldiers curled into the fetal position beneath the rain of heavy blows, effectively making inflicting any damage against him impossible, his compatriots were struggling free and dishing out their bone cracking blows. Punches weren't going to be sufficient, Riff remembered thinking. No, they needed something much more…sharp.

One thing led to another and soon Riff found he gripped a shard of glass in his hand. One soldier made a particularly open target. He had his back turned, wrestling a gangster to the ground who was particularly determined to hit him in the groin as many times as possible. Riff examined him for a moment, looking for a weak point in which he could put his scavenged weapon to use. The only meaningful target areas presented were a section of the hip left unprotected and the back of the neck. Riff remembered savoring the feel of the glass in his hand before he charged the soldier. The glass slid neatly in between the armor crease at the hip. A feral scream like that of a wounded animal penetrated the sounds of battle. A spurt of hot blood followed the glass as Riff ripped it out of the soldier's hip and rammed it down on his neck. This time there was no shriek, only a muffled grunt that faded into a choked gurgle before the man shuddered and went limp. It took Riff a moment to realize he was all alone in the street now. His fellow gangsters had abandoned him. Retreating into the dark tunnels of the underhive to lick their wounds. He was all alone except for the other PDF soldiers who simply stared in mute horror at the growing pool of blood around their fallen comrade. Riff remembered a sharp pain in the back of the head before waking up in a cell with a throbbing bruise. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, one of the soldiers had obviously gotten behind him and hit him with the butt of his gun.

Now here he was. Awaiting what was most likely going to be capital punishment. The door to the court room burst open. A lone PDF soldier walked out.

"They're ready for you." The soldier stated bluntly.

Riff was pushed into the same room he had been in a half hour or so earlier. The room was like a blank grey amphitheater. A single column of seats seated in front of a circle where the accused would stand. Five fat little men peered down at Riff. Each one of them was dressed in some garish set of robes. A high ranking PDF officer stood below the nobles. A sergeant, Riff guessed, by the look of him. A shadowy figure stood on the opposite end of the nobles. The blood ran cold in Riff's veins and a shiver of terror ran through him. It was a commissar. He pinned Riff with a steely gaze and it was then that Riff saw he had an augmetic eye. It glowed red beneath the shadow of his cap. The fattest and most garishly dressed of the nobles (so he was obviously the leader) cleared his throat loudly and spoke.

"Riff Orasmus, you have been found guilty of provoking a conflict with PDF officers that resulted in the injury of four and the death of Officer Regimus Strood. You have also been found guilty of the murder of the previously stated officer." He made a show of asking his fellows if he'd forgotten anything before turning back to Riff.

"Under ordinary circumstances you would face humiliation and execution by way of public flogging, beating, branding, flaying, and finally gutted to be left to the rat filth with which you belong for attacking the gallant defenders of our great world!" He was red in the face as he spat this at Riff, who wasn't really listening but watching the commissar. The only part of the fat nobleman's speech that caught Riff's attention was the "under ordinary circumstances" bit. The nobleman tried to force a smile but it came off as an upward grimace.

"In place of this punishment, Commissar Abelard has requested that perhaps you can make penance for this terrible crime. This unspeakable, vile, horrible-"

"Thank you," The commissar interrupted before the noble could go on. "I can brief the boy on the situation." He spoke with such command in his voice that the noble immediately stopped his rant. Riff shivered as the commissar pinned him with a steely gaze.

"All fine names for a man who murders a servant of the Imperium," the commissar stepped out of the shadows. "But I'm not here educate you on a man's duty to the Emperor. I am here looking for recruits." Riff shuddered. Commissar Abelard spoke directly to him now.

"You have a chance to pay back the life you so viciously snuffed out. This court will have its execution; and Emperor willing it will be a bloody one." The commissar smiled as he signed Riff's death warrant.

"You, along with the thousands of other degenerates scraped from the very bottom of the underhive, will be transported to the _Hell's Reach_ station where you will be assigned to a penal legion and there you will lay down your life to fight the enemies of Mankind. Does this punishment seem suitable to the judges?" The nobleman nodded their approval. Riff stared in mute horror and incomprehension. As the commissar made to leave he turned and spoke to Riff.

"For your sake, pray the Emperor protects." Riff raked his mind for words to put to his ghastly situation. One seemed to sum it all up quite nicely.

"Frak."


	2. Chapter 2: The Abyssal Spear

2

The next few days passed in a blur of new sights. The trial had concluded after the commissar's whispered words and Riff had been pushed and shoved ahead of a couple of PDF goons. Dragged into the street and unnecessarily thrown onto the cobble stone, the two goons picked up Riff by the arms and prodded him into the back of a massive tracked vehicle. The telltale symbol of the Adeptus Arbites was painted on the inside of the vehicle. The stench brought stinging tears to Riffs eyes. Other prisoners had been packed together in the back compartment that could probably house around one crew of Arbites. The number of prisoners in the compartment was at least twice that. The vehicle had obviously been converted for prisoner transport. The prisoners were packed tight into the space, barely enough room between them to pivot. Each convict was chained to the next, shackles clapped around their wrists. The prisoners made use of the momentary freedom from their confinement to put some space in between one another before the two goons brought their truncheons down, forcing them back into the smelly compartment. Riff stepped hesitantly into the compartment after the goons made a show of waving their truncheons. A burly man came around the vehicle, dressed in the common black fatigues of the Arbites, and clamped a set of shackles around Riffs wrists before fishing a key out of his pocket and locking them. The armored doors to the compartment closed and the horrible stench of a dozen or so criminals thickened.

Light filtered through slits covered by cold steel bars. Riff deduced that the slits were probably so the Adeptus Arbites could have some crowd control before the vehicle had been converted to prison transport. Hours passed as the vehicle rattled and shook and the only thing keeping Riff from upchucking was the fact that the convict in front of him would likely bludgeon him to death with his shackles. The criminals in the compartment sure looked the part. Stains and tears covered their clothes and each and every one of them seemed to have some sort of facial hair. The only diversity offered was the occasional augmetic implant. An eye here, a couple of fingers over there. Riff glanced to his right and to his astonishment one even had his entire hand replaced.

The man was a little short compared to the others but none the less frightening. His pale skin was marred by thick pink scars, one of them stretched from his forehead down to his chin. The only sign of hair on his head were little black sprouts. His nose had obviously been broken in some kind of fight. Wherever they were going, Riff would be wary of him.

Riff heard the sounds of the bustling upper hive through the small slits and occasionally got glimpses of all sorts of people "oohing" and "aweing" at their transport. Hours of this went by when finally they came to a stop. The sounds had changed about an hour ago from the hustle and bustle of a hive to the humming and crashing of unseen machines. The armored doors clanged open to reveal what Riff had only heard in stories. They were in a space port. They were marched out by a stern looking group of Arbites. Each one cradled a lasgun, a laspistol strapped to their sides just for good measure. Two of the Arbites took front while two others retreated to the flank of the shambling line of prisoners. Riff gazed around in utter astonishment at the data banks and other machines of incomprehensible function before settling on the most breathtaking site of all. A massive transport shuttle was docked in the space ports landing bay. The cargo hold was open and hundreds of milling lines of prisoners were being shepherded in by an assortment of Imperial Guard and Adeptus Arbites.

A rabble of men and women in deep red robes were wandering around. Mechanical attachments sprouted from their shoulders and cogs dangled from necklaces. Riff looked away from the techpriests as soon as he realized what they were. He'd heard stories of the cogboys, as they were commonly called, and he had always found the idea of having your body replaced with that of a machine disturbing. They seemed to wander around at random, blessing machines and performing other rites of function. Riff returned his attention to the now remarkably close transport shuttle and saw, Written in bold white letters, the name of the ship was _The Abyssal Spear_. He could hardly believe it as the landing ramp clanged beneath his feet and he was marched aboard alongside hundreds of other prisoners.

It was an understatement to say that Riffs astonishment had evaporated as quickly as if it had been shot by a Melta. He and the other prisoners were unshackled at least but this was a small comfort. They criminals were herded into massive rooms that held one hundred prisoners each. Rusty cots fitted with moldy mattresses were the best anybody could hope for. As Riff was led through the ship he saw that some rooms had nothing but the floor and torn blankets. He blessed the Emperor for his small mercies when he was led into a room that was lined with cots, fifty to each side. As he stepped through the threshold he was yanked to the side by an Imperial Guard officer. The gruff and annoyed looking man slapped a collar around Riffs neck before shoving him forward and yanking over the next criminal in line. Riff marched to the end of the line of cots and took the least disgusting looking one he could find. He settled for one on the right side that only had an assortment of pinkish-orange stains compared to the one on the left that had one massive red stain. A voice suddenly crackled over the ships intercom system. Riff immediately recognized it as that of Commissar Abelard

"All imperial officers are to report to their respective quarters in preparation for launch. Collar scanners will be armed in three minutes. All prisoners must be under lock down by then." The intercom cut out and by then all of the prisoners had been herded into the room and fitted with the same thick grey collars. Riff wondered briefly if he'd be seeing the commissar at any point.

An hour or two passed as Riff sat and twiddled his thumbs before gazing around the room again. His eyes wandered for a bit before landing on something of interest. An augmetic hand dangled off the edge of a cot and sure enough it belonged to the same criminal Riff had seen in the vehicle. The intercom buzzed to life at that moment and Riff was prepared to ignore it as he had for the past two hours when the commissar reported useless information but this time was different.

"Prepare for launch." The commissar reported before signing off.

Almost immediately the ship began to vibrate as its engines thrummed to full power. Riff grabbed the edge of his cot and held on just in case the ride got bumpy. Who knows how many corners were cut when forging the hold for prisoners. His fears came true when the room lurched and rocked, throwing a couple of oblivious criminals from their cots and onto the floor. Riff held on for dear life as the room violently shook and juddered until finally, after fifteen minutes, the commotion ceased and once again the intercom buzzed to life.

"We have escaped orbit, prepare for warp jump when at sufficient distance." The commissar reported.

The other criminals seemed almost shell shocked by the experience. Riff couldn't blame them, for a moment it felt like the ship was going to come apart and they were going to be reduced to orbiting space waste. Riff glanced over to where the criminal with the augmetic hand rested outstretched on his cot wearing a nonchalant face bordering on boredom. Riff nearly gawked at the criminal who appeared singularly unfazed by the whole ordeal. The intercom buzzed and the familiar tone of the commissar once again spoke through it.

"Initiating warp jump."

What followed had to be the most frightening minutes of Riffs relatively short life. He thanked the emperor he couldn't see what was happening outside as the very sound of chaos screamed through the ship. Riff knew the crew wouldn't be stupid enough not to activate the warp shields but humans have a rather large capacity for error. The sound of the warp portal opening mixed with the angry swearing and shouting of the criminals as they covered their ears. No doubt the crew was sitting cozy up above while the prisoners below were subjected to the sound of the warp. It wasn't the warp that scared Riff the most, it was what lay waiting in it. He had heard the stories of entire systems consumed by the forces of The Great Enemy. Chaos cultists, Chaos Space Marines, and perhaps most unnerving was the thought of the innumerable fiends and daemons lurking in the warp.

The jump ended mercifully fast. A few criminals spilled their lunch across the floor and a couple others hid beneath their cot. Again, the criminal with the augmetic enhancement seemed bored with the whole ordeal. Something moved beneath Riffs bed and for a moment of pure terror he thought the warp shields had failed and some fiend had manifested itself right beneath him. His fear was dispelled when a head covered in scrubby brown hair peaked out from beneath.

"Are we safe?" The bed lurker looked up at Riff with two brown eyes wide open with terror. Riff shrugged off his confusion quickly enough and put on the tough gangster act he had honed to perfection.

"We won't be if you don't get the frak out from under my bed." The man squirmed out from beneath Riffs bed quickly and stood up. Riff was prepared for a fight. He'd been in plenty before, this would be no different. It was when the man started crying that Riff was caught off guard. It was then that Riff realized the bed lurker wasn't a man at all but a boy who looked barely over the age of sixteen. He calmed down and started talking in between sniffles.

"I-I'm s-sorry…I don't even know what the f-frakkin warp I'm doing here! I mean I o-only took the book for a we-week and I was gonna give it back but then th-these men showed up and shoved me into the back of a big car with a b-bunch of smelly criminals!" His outburst was starting to attract attention as some of the other criminals started staring. Riff knew he had to defuse the situation fast.

"Look, kid, sit down and shut up." That got him quiet enough, the kid immediately sat down on the end of his cot and quit sniffling. "Now, what's your name kid?" The boy looked at Riff fearfully for a moment before answering.

"Shem, my name is Shem." The boy answered cautiously.

"Alright Shem I'm going to need you to go back to your bed or things are going to get very bad for us very fast. Can you do that for me?" Shem nodded, stood up, and walked over to the cot right next to Riffs. Wonderful, Riff thought, I'm sleeping right next to a juvie.

This seemed to satisfy the other criminals who returned to the busy work of staring at the ceramite ceiling. Riff breathed an inward sigh of relief. He and that Shem kid had almost been singled out as the weakest. Riff looked over at Shem, who was shaking almost imperceptibly, and a few ideas sprang to mind. Wherever they were going after they arrived at _Hell's Reach_ , you could bet it wasn't going to be the healthiest place for a person to be. Being in a penal legion made this fact a fair bit more dangerous. He was going to need as many bodies between himself and whatever they were going to be fighting. The criminals in the room were obviously going to be the company Riff was destined to serve, and likely die, with. Every body between him and the enemy was a little bit more protection for him. Shem could be useful. Riff, still staring at the ceramite above him, whispered to Shem.

"So, how did you get here?" Shem was at least smart enough to know not to roll over and face him because he was still looking at the ceiling when he spoke.

"I stole a book from a library." He paused as if to let the "severity" of his crime sink in. "How about you?" He asked boldly.

"Stabbed a PDF goon to death with a piece of glass." Shem quite visibly paled and for a moment Riff questioned the bluntness of the statement.

"Oh…well." Shem seemed at a loss for words.

"Yup, I was about to be executed but instead I got stuck here. Not sure if that's a good thing yet." No harm being honest with the kid, Riff thought. Shem seemed to think for a moment before speaking again.

"We're going to die aren't we?" The hollowness of Shem's voice told Riff the kid already knew the answer.

"Just a matter of when now that we're heading for a penal legion." Shem shuddered as he voiced his last two words. Riff couldn't blame him. They were being drafted into an army of glorified suicide soldiers. They were examples, made to show what happens when you break the laws the Emperor himself has laid out for humanity.

"Emperor protect us." Shem whispered. Riff gave a muffled "uh huh" before drifting off into a restless sleep filled with the laughter of bloodthirsty ethereal beings.


	3. Chapter 3: Hell's Reach

3

By Riff's estimate, the transport shuttle exited the Warp after about a month. Of course this was an extremely rough estimate. Time didn't seem to move right in that hellish dimension. However, one thing Riff was certain of, by the time the shuttle did exit the warp every criminal aboard had had the fear of the Emperor stricken in them. In some cases, quite literally. Every low-rank guardsman aboard was itching to prove themselves, this of course resulted in quite a few unprovoked beatings with their truncheons. Riff swore on his life more than a few times that he'd seen guardsmen trip themselves up, only to turn around and crack their glorified beating sticks against the skull of some unlucky prisoner. The victim was usually left where he'd fallen, no medical attention was sought out. The body would be picked up later by the maintenance crew.

These beatings usually occurred when it was time for the criminals to be fed. Riff jumped out of his cot the first time food was mentioned, which was a decent number of hours after the warp jump and what could be called a decent night's sleep. The word "night" being a relative term seeing as how the maelstrom that was the Warp didn't have a proper day and night cycle. Again they were herded through the twisting corridors of the ship, poked and prodded along by some guardsmen of course, into a massive room filled with milling prisoners. After that you just had to hope you got a ration bar before the distributor decided he'd given out enough. Riff had been lucky enough to elbow his way to the front of the mob surrounding one of the distributing stations with little difficulty. The soon to be familiar white bar of stuff was shoved into his hands and he quickly sought out the least crowded area. Apparently the Guard didn't think prisoners needed sitting space as no such thing was provided. Nothing but the cold ceramite floor to sit on. So Riff sat down where there seemed to be the fewest prisoners, which seemed to be the exact spot where an unpleasantly large red stain graced the floor.

Most of the other prisoners seemed to be establishing their little gangs already. It was at that point that a familiar head of scrubby brown hair detached itself from the growing crowd of prisoners around the last distributing station. Shem looked around for a moment before his eyes settled on Riff and for one terrifying moment he thought the stupid juvie was going to call out to him. Instead Shem wandered over and deposited himself beside him. Apparently the kid had failed in getting a ration bar as he was empty handed.

"Where's yours?" Riff asked after a minute or two of them just sitting and staring at the mobs of prisoners.

"Don't have one. Some guy threatened to tear my head off so I just thought I'd give them their space." Riff saw where this was going already, and he hadn't lived so long in the kill-or-be-killed world of the underhive by sharing.

Riff let the silence stretch on between them for a while. He caught Shem staring at his uneaten ration bar every few moments before the kid returned his gaze to the prisoners. It was then that Riff came to a decision. Picking up the ration bar he broke it into two evenly sized chunks and extended one of them over to Shem. Shem eyed his hand uncertainly for a moment, looking between Riff and the proffered chunk of food, before taking the piece and shoving it greedily into his mouth. It was here that Riff took the juvie under his wing.

Basic combat training started a few days later. Riff found he had been correct in his assumption that the criminals that made up their company did indeed double as their quarter mates. Groups of eight-hundred prisoners were herded into rooms that were much smaller than the massive cafeteria room but big nonetheless. They were split into eight groups of one-hundred each, each prisoner was put in a group with their fellow quarter mates and so Riff got to see the stranger with the augmetic hand once again. By then each group had been shoved into what could just pass for an ordered rank. Shem had made sure to make his way to Riff's side. The stranger with the augmetic hand, by sheer coincidence, stood in rank just ahead of Riff. He stood ramrod straight, facing the front of the ranks where some high-ranking guardsmen stood before each company. As soon as each prisoner had been bullied into line he spoke.

"You have all committed some sort of crime to end up here; that's obvious enough. And before you ask, no you will not be receiving weapons. I'm not about to arm eight-hundred criminals." The guardsmen around the room forced a laugh before he continued. "You've been given a chance to repent for your sins against mankind. You should all consider yourself lucky to have the opportunity. You are not soldiers and I doubt any of you will earn that title. However, it is my holy duty to prepare you scum for the battlefields you will fight on. So watch and learn, the lucky ones who survive might just have the chance to put these skills to use."

The guardsman, who later introduced himself as the "holy and seasoned warrior" Lemuel, was true to his word as no weapons were even let near the criminals. Combat training was done through demonstrations by Lemuel and his guardsmen suck-ups, who were more than happy to demonstrate the lasrifles effectiveness on a few rowdy prisoners. It was during these training sessions that Riff got his first look at a true mutant.

Shem had pointed out a specimen who stood at the very back of one of the company ranks. The others in its line gave it a wide berth. The mutant rippled with muscle. It had no shirt so Riff was given a full view of the dozens of scars that covered its bare torso. The mutant had a thick brow line beneath which two hazy red eyes peered out. Jagged teeth sprouted in all different directions from its hideously misshapen mouth. Riff wondered how he'd never seen the monster before, it had to be about the size of an ork, before coming to the conclusion that he'd been too busy trying to look like he was paying attention in case he was singled out for a demonstration.

Riff turned away from the horrid mockery of the human form to make sure he wasn't caught and nudged Shem, who was absolutely gawking at the thing, to face forward. Not that he was paying attention either way. He'd been in plenty of fights in the hive; of course than he'd been using a stubber pistol to get the work done. Looking at the way they were taught to hold laspistols it didn't seem any different.

After weapons training, Lemuel proceeded to educate them on all of the imperium's enemies. Shem particularly loved this part and Riff found he had a particularly hard time shutting him up afterwards when Shem began schooling him on the different ways in which Tyranid bio-forms can disembowel a man. They were given knowledge of every xenos race, more importantly they were taught how to kill them. Tau, Eldar, Tyranids, Orks, and even the Great Enemy itself. So they wiled away the time like this. Every day Shem found his way to Riffs side and Riff found himself staring at the back of the stranger with the augmetic hand. Riff and Shem stuck together when it was feeding time, always avoiding the larger concentrations of criminals as this was where fights tended to break out that usually ended in every combatant being beaten to death.

Two weeks into their travel aboard _The Abyssal Spear_ the mutants began to gather in one of the far corners of the massive feeding room. Riff couldn't help but stare sometimes at the sheer variety of mutations the mob had. Some of the mutations were obvious, a few extra appendages here and there, but some were much more subtle. Riff tried push away his morbid fascination with the mutants for the remainder of the trip aboard the shuttle, lest he find himself becoming a little too comfortable with their horrifically distorted forms. He just prayed he wouldn't be fighting alongside any of them. However, word spread that some prisoner had glimpsed the hulking form of an Ogryn and serving alongside mutants suddenly seemed inevitable.

When they finally exited the Warp, two and a half months had passed in real space. Riff learned that the speed of their travel was apparently above average, and he was terrified to learn that some shuttles remained in the Warp for a year before entering real space to find that a decade had passed. Riffs fear intensified when he realized that he was now one step closer to the grave now that they had arrived at their destination. He was careful not to let his fear show in front of Shem, he needed the kid's confidence now more than ever. Shem apparently needed his own confidence to. Now that they were so close to the conclusion of their journey and their training had ended it was only a matter of time before they were dispatched against some enemy and died in battle. The pressure was visibly weighing down on Shem, and as Riff was about to find out, the pressure was apparently weighing down on the others to.

Riff had never bothered with his collar after it had ben clapped around his neck, it had just become a part of life. But now he saw its purpose in full grisly detail. One man broke for the door of their company's quarters, pushing and shoving any criminals who got in his way. As he passed the threshold a light on top of the door began to beep wildly, syncing with the rapid beeping on the criminal's collar. In a flash of light the runner's head was vaporized. The explosion shredded his upper torso sending a shower of gore cascading across the floor. The runner's legs kept working for a moment before falling into the pulped remains of his upper torso where they ceased to move. Riff heard the telltale sounds of vomiting as some of the other criminals, Shem included, upchucked their ration bars onto the floor. Riff unconsciously began to scratching at the collar around his neck.

The unloading of all the prisoners went about the same as the loading did. They were led out in lines, chained to one another, and onto the docking bay of _Hell's reach_. Riff noted how this space port had none of the grandeur the hive world space port had. Everything was dingy and flecked with rust. Riff only needed a basic knowledge of the complexity of machine spirits to know these ones had been severely neglected by their techpriests. The station had apparently been built into an asteroid orbiting an unnamed gas giant. Riff knew this because the massive docking bay had been carved out of the rock, quite roughly by the look of it. They had also gone through an extensive depressurization process that began when the massive docking bay doors sealed off the chamber from the vacuum outside.

The lines of prisoners were led from the loading bay to the cargo bay by more guardsmen and eventually they made it into the station itself. It was expected of penal legion soldiers to die on their first assignment, which is why Riff was surprised to hear they were replenishing the ranks. It was only then he noticed the large number of onlookers as they were marched through the station and into what would be their new, and most likely final, home. The onlookers were no different from them, criminals dressed in filthy clothes. They were different in one aspect however, each individual had a number and a design tattooed onto their foreheads. Each and every onlooker was also shaved bald. Some had the same numbers and designs as others. Riff realized the onlookers must be soldiers from the different units who just so happened to make it out of their last assignment alive.

They were marched further and further into the guts of the station. The rumble of unseen machines could be heard through the walls and it had gotten so hot that Riff needed to constantly dab away the sweat from his forehead. Finally their march seemed to have come to an end when they were herded into a chamber that reminded him uncomfortably of the court room at the hive, just bigger. At the front of the room on raised section of the floor stood Commissar Abelard, having apparently disembarked ahead of the prisoners. Riff scoffed, what was it with these idiots and needing to stand a little higher than everyone else. Riff came to the conclusion that the commissar was likely compensating for something. A tingle of unease ran up his spine as Abelard looked around at the prisoners with an almost jovial smile on his face. There was big news, Riff knew that, and if it made a commissar smile it wasn't good. The commissar cleared his throat and began to speak as the last lines of prisoners were shoved into the room.

"Welcome to the last home you will ever know." Commissar Abelard's smile disappeared. "When you go beyond these walls you will know no freedom, only service to the Emperor. When you go beyond these walls you will be marching to your execution. Outside these walls the battlefield is your new home, and the mud will be your tomb." A ghost of a smile crept its way onto the commissar's face. Riff knew what was coming.

"So quickly your time has come to be blooded in battle. Hell's Reach lies on the border of the Catis Umbra system which has so recently been attacked by the Great Devourer." A wave of horror rippled through Riff. "The main Tyranid fleet was crushed by the Emperor's chosen, but the threat lingers." The commissar stopped and looked over each and every prisoner.

"Today you will be assigned to your unit and company. Tomorrow you will depart for the Catis Umbra system. In a week you will make planet fall and you will begin cleansing the Tyranid threat. After two weeks…all of you will likely be dead." The commissar let his words sink in before adding a final note.

"The Emperor protects those who are worthy. Expect nothing from him."


	4. Chapter 4: Hive Warriors

4

The leather bit into Riff's wrist as he was fastened to the chair. No use resisting, not against a servitor. Not much flesh to stab or scratch and nothing to punch unless bloody knuckles were your thing. The blank-faced cyborg had simply picked him out of the line of prisoners and threw him into one of the hundreds of cold metal chairs, restraining him with one massive mechanical arm. Others seemingly didn't know of the servitors' capabilities as the sounds of minor scraps carried through the air, prisoners beating fruitlessly on the cyborgs before being promptly bashed over the head. As Riff's other hand and both his feet were restrained to the chair he got a good look at the mindless cyborg. Obviously vat grown, Riff deduced, not much effort had been put into creating it. The servitor's face was reflected across the hundreds of other cyborgs milling about. Riff didn't get any more time for contemplation when the screaming started.

It came from all around as the servitors' leaned over their helpless victims and seemed to conjure up large needles out of nowhere before lowering them and drawing on their prisoners forehead. Riff's voice joined the chorus involuntarily as the servitor, without a change in expression, began drawing on his flesh. Riff had disregarded the tattoo horror stories of his fellow gangsters back at the hive as mere exaggeration; everyone else seemed to find the pain of getting a tattoo paltry in comparison to being cut by a knife which Riff himself had experienced. This was different. A wave of white hot agony followed the needle as the servitor stenciled some insidious design into his flesh. The needle was thick and didn't look at all sanitary. Riff knew the pain was purposeful; the servitor pressed down with too much malign purpose for it not to be. The worst part was the unchanging expression as the servitor seemed to rake the needle across his forehead. Riff tried and failed to stifle his screaming, everything he tried failed. In the end he resorted to counting the minutes before he was unstrapped and thrown from the chair into the next phase of humiliation.

Everyone was stripped down to their skin and hosed down without remorse. Riff knew he could bear the cold filthy water only because it dampened the constant burning of the tattoo on his forehead. Looking around at all of the other prisoners, and keeping his eyes above waist level, Riff examined the tattoos on their foreheads. Their seemed to be only three tattoo varieties. The first was a stylized serpent biting down on a krak grenade beneath which _Snakebiters_ was tattooed followed by either 1st, 2nd, 3rd, or 4th company. The next tattoo was of the face of a seemingly mutated dog with the words _Chem Hounds_ beneath, followed again by the company number. The third and final tattoo was of a stylized sump rat with the words _Hive Warriors_ beneath. If Riff had to guess which tattoo now adorned his forehead he would have guessed the _Hive Warriors_.

Riff was glad when the servitors' somehow decided the prisoners had had enough of being washed by what was only a step or two below a power hose. The servitors' guided them away from the washing area so the next batch of unlucky prisoners could be stripped down. What Riff didn't appreciate was being shaved bald while he was still naked. He'd simply been dragged into the next room along with all of the other prisoners before being seized by a servitor and having his hair buzzed off. He winced when the whirring blades occasionally touched his still burning tattoo.

Finally they were given something to wear after being led into an armory of orange and green outfits. No matter what color was given it came with a copious amount of pockets and a number sewed to the front. To finish the outfit off a flimsy flak vest and a pair of dirty grey combat boots was distributed to each prisoner. Riff noticed how the armor didn't seem to embolden anybody; it was almost like they were still wearing nothing at all. Riff, however, cherished every piece of clothing given to him; he slipped on the flak vest with enthusiasm and decided to ignore the fact that it was a size to big.

Again they had marched through the station before coming to their quarters. Three halls led off in different directions, each one had the name and insignia of the battalion it belonged to painted at the top of the hall. Each hall had six corridors lining its side which contained the quarters. This time each room got one-hundred or more cots without exception. Riff's guess on which battalion he belonged to was confirmed when he was marshalled down the _Hive Warriors_ hall and into the nearest corridor, conveniently labeled 1st company. As Riff entered the familiar room, its only difference from the ship quarters being the fact it was carved out of the rock, he found that they had indeed been sent to replenish the ranks. Some of the cots were already taken by gruff looking convicts wearing the same outfit Riff and the other prisoners had been given.

Riff instinctively migrated to the very end of the long row of moldy cots. He knew that Shem had to have been assigned to the _Hive Warriors_ and that he knew where to find Riff. Unless he'd been too busy quivering with fear when Riff had told him to find him at the very back of the quarters. Taking the least stained of the two cots on the end Riff threw himself on the stiff mattress and tried not to touch his new tattoo. The incessant burning had faded only to be replaced by a constant annoying throbbing. Not to mention it had suddenly become irresistibly itchy. Riff suddenly felt a cold ball of dread form in his guts. A pang of fear ran through him when he realized why. What if they'd broken Shem? Then Riff would have no allies with him on the battlefield. Every body between him and the enemy counted and considering Shem was that one body losing him now would be a fatal blow. The juvie couldn't elbow his way through a crowd, waves of horror rippled through Riff, how was he supposed to survive the sort of torture this place had certainly just put him through? Riff got his answer soon enough.

Riff recognized Shem's frail form as he shuffled in. It took all he had to stop himself from getting up and running to catch the juvie when he fell to the ground. A servitor standing just outside the door strolled in and heaved Shem to his feet before shoving him forward. The _Hive Warriors_ insignia had been tattooed to his face and his brown hair had been hacked off unevenly. Streaks of dried tears made his face look glossy. He slowly made his way to the very end of the cots, attracting the eye of every criminal along the way, before dropping himself onto the cot next to Riff. Finally, he gave out. Shem snored almost peacefully. Riff stared at the juvie for a while before rolling over on his cot to get some rest of his own. After about thirty minutes of simply lying awake Riff began to envy Shem and wished his body would just give out to. But it wouldn't let him. In a few hours they'd be on some strike cruiser heading for his first and likely last battlefield.

Sleep came and went at its leisure. Time blurred and Riff wasn't sure how long he'd been awake or asleep when he turned over again to look at Shem.

"FRAK!" Shem's skin undulated slowly before beetles, hundreds of black beetles, began bursting through his flesh and crawling out of every orifice. Riff leapt from his bed, swatting at the horde of black monstrosities. The other prisoners began to burst open, disgorging more of the skittering horrors. Riff turned and ran as fast as his feet could take him away from the legions of tiny black insects. Pale white flesh grew from the walls and floor, gently pulsating. Sickly tendrils rubbed themselves against his ankles. Finally, one of the fleshy tendrils seized his ankles sending him headlong into a pool of churning yellow fluids. He dissolved in the foul pit. Flesh, bone, and tissue flaking away bit by bit before a shadow came and claimed his soul.

Riff woke up clawing at his forehead and immediately wrenched his hands away. The momentary relief giving in had was overshadowed by the fresh burning it caused. Every prisoner was asleep except for him.

"You're quite the lucid dreamer." A voice whispered. Riff stifled the scream that nearly burst forth. Just to the left of his peripheral vision he could make out a figure sitting in the corner. The luminators in the room had been extinguished long ago but some ghostly half-light reflected off of an augmetic hand. The man sat in the corner was smoking a fat cigar. By some miracle the smell hadn't awoken the sleeping prisoners.

"You were whimperin' and moanin' while you were sleeping. Didn't want to bother you if you know what I mean." The man drew long and hard from the cigar before he let out a cloud of smoke that drifted to the ceiling and evaporated.

"It wasn't like that." Riff growled indignantly.

"So it was a nightmare." The man stated. "Was it about the 'Nids?" Riff's stomach did a flip. Had he been dreaming about the 'Nids? Best to be honest.

"Yeah," Riff answered simply. "There were lots of beetles." He elaborated.

"They're called fleshborers and they're ammunition for the 'Nids." The man took another long draw before once again releasing the cloud to evaporate.

"Arbas by the way." The man snuffed out the cigar.

"Riff. Where'd you get that?" Riff pointed to the freshly snuffed out cigar.

"Nicked it." Arbas responded plainly.

"How'd you light it?" Riff questioned.

"With matches." Arbas drew another cigar and some matches out of his pocket-laden uniform.

"And where'd you get those?" Riff asked fully aware of what the answer was going to be.

"Nicked 'em." Riff decided not to bother Arbas anymore. They were probably going to be dead within the week anyway; he deserved to smoke in peace.


	5. Chapter 5: Shipping Out

5

Riff couldn't exactly tell whether or not it was morning. All he knew was that it was time to ship out. The guardsmen were in a much better mood than the prisoners. No doubt due to the fact that all they were going to be doing in the upcoming battle was lobbing shells miles away from the battlefront while the penal legionnaires died in their droves.

The Guard obviously expected light resistance as, at least from what Riff could gather, a small flotilla made up of one lunar class cruiser and five heavy frigates had split off from a much larger navy fleet to aid in the cleansing of the Catis Umbra system. Riff deduced fairly quickly that the lunar class cruiser was obviously going to be Guard headquarters, where the higher-ups in the chain of command could sit cozy and participate in the battle from afar. Riff also deduced, from the whispered conversations of guardsmen, that the five frigates were there to clear a path for the cruiser, mostly by picking off any lingering bio-ships, before dispatching small transports aboard which would be a combination of penal legion and imperial guard battalions as well as earthshaker artillery. As the battalions formed up, Riff sorely wished that he would be able to man one of the earthshakers.

Riff got into rank with the rest of the 1st company _Hive Warriors_. Gazing around at the rest of the companies her had to admit that they looked more like an army than they ever had or probably ever were. Most of them at least. Riff watched as Shem got into rank beside him. He hadn't gotten the chance to talk to him after his sudden crash the day before and he doubted the juvie wanted to be talked to anyway. He had a stern face that didn't quite hide the terror in his eyes, his shoulders were slumped as well and he seemed to be coughing excessively. Whether or not it was from the choking scent of sweat that lingered in the air or Arbas's late night smoking session Riff didn't know. Riff heard a few muttered "frakkin new guy" from around the 1st company, apparently from veterans who'd survived at least one battle. Which Riff knew was a very small number. The battalions and their companies didn't seem to have a formal chain of command like that of the imperial guard, in the stead of rank those with more experience were in charge. When the battalion had finally been arranged into its core companies and then into neat ranks, or as neat as could be expected, four particularly gruff looking convicts stepped in front of their companies. Just then a new figure came shuffling into view. Another commissar. This one wasn't as impressive as Abelard to be sure, this one was much shorter and mousier not to mention his ridiculous shambling walk. Riff had to stifle a laugh when he thought about how many soldiers had likely died under this commissar's watch when they were expecting a rallying hero and got a shambling midget. The commissar took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped off his sweaty forehead before facing the companies.

"You all have the honor of serving alongside the Dagon Elite 300th. The Hive Warriors in particular will be fielded with the Dagon Elite 1st battalion and will report to them in the hour in preparation to ship out aboard the frigate Hastam Mortem." Riff thanked the emperor when the shambling commissar ceased speaking. The man's grating voice was filled with pompousness and he talked almost like he was chiding children. The commissar did a 360 degree turn on the spot and marched away. The convicts at the head turned to face their companies.

"All right you heard him, let's move out!" The companies began their long trek through the station once more. Shem looked more terrified than Riff had ever seen him thus far.

The _Hastam Mortem_ was much more impressive than the flimsy transport shuttle they'd arrived in. The frigate had been the first to dock while the rest of its small flotilla circled the asteroid. Riff couldn't begin to imagine what the cruiser would look like. Servitors had already begun loading the earthshaker artillery when the _Hive Warriors_ were led aboard by the _Dagon Elite_ 1st battalion. The difference in moods between the penal battalion and the guard battalion was staggering. Riff watched as some of the guardsmen walking along the side laughed and exchanged old war stories while others were quite clearly recovering from a night of binge drinking in anticipation of their upcoming battle. In contrast, every convict in the battalion wore a somber face, even the veterans who'd survived their last battles but no doubt knew that their luck was about to run out. They were loaded simultaneously with the cargo and sent down into the lower levels of the frigate where a familiar bunch of quarters waited for them. Riff silently thanked the emperor that they wouldn't be traveling through the Warp again. The higher-ups in the chain of command didn't think it was necessary to make a jump for a travel that would only take a week in real time. As things settled down, Riff seized the opportunity to speak with Shem.

"How are you holding together?" Riff sat down next to Shem as he asked the question.

"Feels like the 'Nids have chewed me up already." Shem buried his head in his arms. "I just hope my mom and dad are okay." That was new info to Riff. Shem had been quite reserved when it came to talking about his life back at the hive. "I was going to be a merchant you know. Skipping from space port to space port, trading food, spices, ore, everything." Shem stopped for a moment as if to let the information sink in before he continued. "Dad wasn't even home when they caught me. Neither was mom, I think she was out with some business associate. She was always out with someone from "the business". They found the book I stole from the library and just up and threw me into the back of some big smelly car." Shem pulled his head out from under his arms and smiled, something Riff hadn't seen him do for a long time. "It's kind of ironic, you know, the book I stole was "The Dark Tendril: A Complete History of Tyranid Incursions in the Galaxy", by Threbe Aragnar." Riff didn't think ironic was the right word but he decided to let it go. Eventually the smile faded from Shem's face and his stern look returned.

"How are we going to survive?" Shem asked.

"By fighting smart, that's how." Both Riff and Shem nearly jumped out of their skins because of Arbas's sudden interruption.

"You sure as frak like to make an entrance." Riff growled Arbas who simply shot him a very insincere apologetic look. Shem looked between the two before his eyes settled on Riff.

"Shem," Riff pointed at Arbas. "Arbas." Next, Riff pointed from Arbas to Shem and repeated the process of introductions. Arbas extended his augmetic hand which Shem, after a little hesitation, shook. The two retracted their hands, Shem flexing his ruefully due to Arbas's strong grip.

"Since you two seemed to be talking about surviving I thought I might pitch in." Arbas said before adding, "And besides, it's good to make as many friends as you can when the time comes to be fighting with them on the battlefield." The last remark worried Riff considerably. Nobody looks for "friends" in a penal legion, only cannon fodder to put between them and the enemy. Riff decided he'd listen to what he had to say and gauge Arbas's intentions.

"What do you mean by "fight smart"?" Shem asked.

"I mean don't play into the role you've been given. Don't throw yourself at the enemy like a couple of khornate berzerkers, hang back and take the enemy out at a distance. The real reason they even have penal legions is so they can poke and prod the enemy defenses and disposition." Arbas seemed to be speaking from experience and Riff was about to question him when Shem beat him to the punch.

"If you're caught hanging back wont they just detonate your collar?" Shem fingered the black slave collar around his neck.

"I can name a few reasons why they wouldn't want to do that. First of all, if they kill you it's one less body between them and the enemy. Second, its common knowledge that the guardsmen and commissars who lead the penal battalions into battle have been known to catch a stray lasbolt to the back of the head if you know what I mean. Lastly, although they'll deny it to anybody that asks, everybody's afraid that the whole battalion will just become so demoralized that they'll just give up and lay down to die. If you don't want to get blown up, the best I can tell you is not to run away and not to shoot at your handler. Well, not if you'll get caught doing it anyway." Arbas allowed himself a self-satisfactory smile after finishing his ramble. Riff decided to hold off on his questions because he first needed to digest everything he'd just been told and determine if Arbas was indeed trustworthy and also because he feared another question might send him off on another ramble. The intercom chose the silence that followed the conversation to buzz to life.

"Preparing for launch." Some guardsman barked across the intercom. Riff was surprised at how efficient their loading time had been. It had taken a little bit over an hour to load up and now all that was left before they embarked on their week long voyage to emperor knows what Tyranid infested rock was to circle the station as the rest of the flotilla frigates loaded up and then finally the cruiser would receive its precious cargo of commanders. All in all it would take around several hours for the process to be completed. Riff leaned back, that was surely enough time to mull over whether or not he and Shem could trust their new companion. Thankfully, protected by the frigate's thick armor plating, they barely felt their undocking and subsequent launch into the cold void.

Over the next few days they were briefed, although Riff hesitated to call it that, on the situation in the Catis Umbra system. A Tyranid splinter fleet, formed after a massive battle with the newest hive fleet that had entered the galaxy, had laid siege to the Catis Umbra system. Riff, along with most of his battalion, were surprised to learn that the threat had become so great that an Astartes space marine chapter had been sent in. The Scythes of the Emperor, who apparently had a bone to pick with the Tyranids. The splinter fleet had been crushed after a decisive battle and grounded on the three planets they'd besieged in the system. Most of the bioships had tried to flee only to be reduced to floating space trash by the imperial fleet surrounding the system. However not all of the bioships had been destroyed resulting in most of the imperial fleet evacuating to fight against the full-fledged hive fleet and leaving behind some small flotillas to form a noose around the system and cut down any bioships that attempted to escape. The evacuating fleet of course took most of, if not all, the imperial guard regiments with it meaning the flotillas couldn't close the noose and mount a ground assault. Which of course, Riff thought, led to his pleasant situation. Other than this they were mostly briefed on the enemy disposition and where they were going to be once they made planetfall. The three planets the 'Nids had besieged were the only planets capable of supporting life in the system, making them obvious targets. Riff was disappointed to hear that each world was an Agri-World and that there were no hive worlds in the system as he was hoping he'd at the very least be able to fight in a familiar environment. Overall they were given the least amount of information possible, which made Riff extremely anxious when they finally made it inside the Catis umbra system.


	6. Chapter 6: Planetfall

6

Space warfare had always seemed like such a small thing. Riff remembered watching the holo-drama _Warp Runners_ and how the intergalactic dogfights always played out. The crew of the Warp Runner battle cruiser would run around, scream a bunch of technical babble that only a techpriest could decipher, then someone would scream "Fire forward batteries!" and the enemy vessels would explode under a hail of bright flashing lights. The reality was far more terrifying.

The _Hastam Mortem_ had apparently gotten "lucky" as it was the first ship to make enemy contact. Riff knew without a doubt that the Guardsmen above had gotten advance warning when the hive ship was spotted. All the penal legion got was a quick message from the intercom concerning said hive ship and something about imminent engagement. Hardly enough time to prepare, not that they could really prepare for anything Riff knew. In all the holo-dramas Riff had ever seen the battles in space seemed so small and easy to follow. The main thing he always noticed was the massive amounts of fire and explosions that boomed through the vacuum. When the weapons began firing on the hive ship their massive booms rattled through the ship but no explosions or bangs followed that usually indicated a direct hit. Riff had of course expected this with his little, but sufficient, knowledge of space. This knowledge didn't exactly ease the terror of knowing a massive swarm of Tyranids might be about to board at any moment. Riff's terror only increased as the guns kept up their process of firing and reloading well over five minutes. At this point in the holo-drama the crew would usually be cruising by the floating wreckage of their adversaries and patting themselves on the back for a job well done. Finally the booming sounds of gunfire from the ships artillery finally ceased and another voice crackled over the com to report that the hive ship had been successfully destroyed. Riff would place a bet on the chances that the guardsmen and their senior officers above were having a jolly old time of patting themselves on the back and swelling with pride at the knowledge that they had just drawn first blood with no casualties. Among the legion however, anxiety only increased. Riff couldn't put his finger on what exactly it was that had this effect on everyone. It was probably the sudden realization that hit when they knew that their deployment was only a day or two away and by then they wouldn't have anywhere near the kind of firepower needed to survive against 'Nids. They were frakked to all hell, pure and simple.

One of the leading legionnaires briefed the entire battalion on some new information a number of hours after their victory against the hive ship. The _Hive Warriors_ were going to be split into their companies and then into platoons for their deployment onto one of the agri-worlds known as Herraspatia. They were going to receiving some light support from the _Chem Hounds_ and apparently an unknown number of Ogryn rifle squads and Ogryn heavy weapon squads were being deployed as well. Despite the fact that they were mutants, Riff was glad to hear that the Ogryn were joining the fight. Maybe the Tyranids would deem them the greater threat and divert their forces accordingly. Riff had thankfully seen little sign of any mutants in the _Hive Warriors_ and none at all in the quarters. He hated the idea of having mutants covering his back in battle.

Other than this they were briefed on some unimportant tactical information before returning to their quarters to rest up for the slaughter that lay ahead of them. Shem fell asleep easy enough, so Riff couldn't talk to him and he wasn't about to go off looking for Arbas, something about the man wasn't quite right. Riff tossed and turned on his itchy mattress as if something was deliberately keeping him from sleeping. It couldn't be the sudden dose of realty he, along with the rest of the legion, had received some scant hours ago, he'd already come to terms with that. Riff realized he wasn't the only one having a bad night as the shadowy forms of some of the legionnaires tossed back and forth and their cots squealed beneath them. Suddenly, Riff found himself suppressing the urge to vomit as something rippled through him. A foul shiver crawled up his spine before terminating and again Riff wasn't the only one. Other legionnaires began sitting up and glaring around the room as if looking for the source of the foul energy that had shot through them. Riff found that he too was looking around the room and saw that even the legionnaires still asleep were being affected. Strained faces and pinched eye brows as well as small almost imperceptible whimpers of silent terror. Riff was reminded uncomfortably of his experience in the warp and the stories of the pure terror looking upon a daemon induced. Riff quickly pushed these thoughts aside and buried his face into the mattress. He would have been the last to say that he was a pious man but deep down some shred of piety lurked. So, with his head still buried in the mattress, Riff whispered silent prayers to the Emperor that he'd heard from some back alley preacher. Sitting in the dark, alone and admittedly scared, Riff wished he could thank that preacher. Of course at the time the preacher had wondered up to him and started spouting piety at him he'd been a semi-accomplished gangster and had promptly socked the old man across the jaw.

One last hive ship was encountered on the voyage to Herraspatia. This one had apparently seen a fight already as it had been, according to legion hearsay, mauled by dozens of blast craters created by heavy artillery. Again the booms of the _Hastam Mortem's_ artillery echoed through the ship. The battle was much shorter than the previous as all that the _Hastam Mortem_ had to do was deliver the death blow that would reduce the massive super organism and its vile cargo to dust. This time however, Riff doubted there was any celebrating going on above. When he'd woken up he had been horrified to discover that the sinister miasma of foul energy had only intensified overnight. Every legionnaire had an air of paranoia surrounding them that refused to dissipate. Suspicious looks were being shot over shoulders and sometimes someone would just start glaring at another person from across the room. Riff knew trouble when he saw it. If they went into battle like this they were more likely to be shooting each other rather than the Tyranids. Being right in the middle of a bunch of paranoid convicts was not going to a very healthy place to stay for any extended amount of time. Riff knew that the paranoia had seeped to the higher levels when the voice over the intercom reporting the hive ship's destruction also had a disturbing edge of unease. Riff couldn't describe the feeling; all he knew was that it was almost tangible. It felt as if some strange energy was stirring all around but its source could never be found. Shem seemed to be dealing with it by pretending to be somewhere else judging by the blank look Riff saw on his face. Even Arbas seemed to be affected when Riff spotted him wandering around. The old man shot frequent looks over his soldier and pretended he was cracking his neck. Riff decided know was as good a time as any to approach him.

"Is it the Tyranids?" Riff asked as soon as he was in ear shot of Arbas. Arbas pinned him with a steely glare before realizing who had spoken to him. Arbas shook his head slowly.

"No, the Tyranids only use their psychic mind tricks to cut off communication and strike terror into peoples' minds _before_ the invasion. This is, of course, post-invasion." Arbas did another fake neck crack. "And besides," he began to add. "I doubt there's enough of the bugs to muster up this kind of effect. They're probably focusing too much of their efforts on the ground assault to notice us." Riff was frightened and glad simultaneously. He was glad that he could now rule out the Tyranids as the cause of the strange miasma. Yet, he was frightened that some unknown thing was, at this very moment, tampering with their minds.

As the frigate crawled through space to Herraspatia the atmosphere of paranoia thickened to the point of bursting. Riff was prepared to write the feeling off as pre-battle jitters. He'd never been in true warfare before and he doubted any of the other legionnaires had either. But the unease in the voice of the intercom controller kept wedging its way back into his mind. Riff doubted that some new guy would be reporting on the status of a battle and if the speaker wasn't a new guy then he'd seen action before. Riff didn't get much more time to argue with himself before the time came to deploy. They had finally arrived at Herraspatia.

First company was rushed through the ship and to the cargo bay by a group of Dagon Elite 300th Guardsmen also from first company. Riff continually had to look back and make sure Shem was keeping up with the pace. Arbas was able to keep up just fine as he was actually traveling a little bit ahead of the rest of first company. The guardsmen weren't stupid however. It wasn't a mad dash in which a legionnaire could break off from the group and look for an escape pod. There were more guardsmen at the flank and some marching on the side. This was the first time Riff had gotten a good look at the Dagon Elite guardsmen so he spared a few glances while running just to get a look at them. Each one wore the standard flak armor however the armor had been painted pitch black. Each guardsman also wore a pair of goggles with red lenses and beneath their helmets a red bandanna was tied around their heads. Other than their distinguishing regiment outfits they looked just like the stock guardsman.

They passed some viewports and it took all of Riff's restraint not to stop and just peer out at the planet below. From the glimpses he did get Riff could see that Herraspatia was a beautiful place. From orbit at least. There was no telling how many 'Nids infested the planet below. Through the viewports Riff could see that the surface of Herraspatia was dominated by two massive continents which seemed to be covered in green that betrayed the presence of farmlands and jungles. They came upon another viewport and Riff glanced eagerly in its direction hoping to get another look at the agri-world below. The viewport provided a slightly different view of the southernmost continent with greenery again stretching across its surface until it abruptly terminated at the edge of a vast black land. Riff was confused when he saw the jagged scar of desolate land cutting through the middle of the continent before he realized it was the Tyranid warpath.

The black scar spread out in multiple directions from its epicenter but its most prominent path was a mark that stretched towards the northern continent. The fear that had possessed Riff was quite suddenly replaced by an inexplicable rage that coursed through him. Riff noticed that even the miasma of paranoia seemed to dampen a little as righteous anger lit his blood on fire. The Tyranids were a vile tumor and they were here to cut it out at its heart. The anger dissipated a bit though when Riff saw what they would making planetfall with.

At first Riff thought the intimidating dropship they were boarding would be the ship to fly them into battle but once aboard the mighty dropship they were herded into a smaller, much dinkier ship. The massive dropship thrummed to life and Riff knew from the characteristic rumble of its massive engines that they had launched into the cold void and were probably hovering just above the planet. If he had listened carefully enough, which even Riff himself found surprising, then he knew that the other companies were being herded onto similar ships and that they were going to be launched alongside small detachments of Dagon Elite guardsmen ahead of the heavy artillery and the main bulk of Imperial Guard forces. This sounded like a good strategy until it seemed that the ship they would be entering the atmosphere with would come apart in mere seconds. The metal of the ship was rusting in parts and some of the seats lacked crash webbing so that in the event of a crash a good number of first company would be decorating the walls as unpleasant stains.

Riff silently cursed his curiosity as looking through the viewports had slowed him down and he now stood near the back of the procession of first company legionnaires. No doubt the others were smart enough to take the seats with crash webbing. Riff formed an uncomfortable mental image of the ship bucking and rocking as it entered the atmosphere as he is flung out of his seat and crushed against the ship's walls as Arbas laughs at his stupidity. Surely Arbas picked a seat with crash webbing as he was at the front of first company. Some guardsmen stood at the flank cradling their lasrifles and making sure nobody made a break for an escape pod.

Riff was staring enviously at the impressive weapons the guardsmen carried when something vile rippled up his spine. He had a few seconds to register the fact that the miasma of creeping energy had risen to its peak before everything around him exploded. Howling noise shrieked through his ears and he fell to his knees as foul energy twisted and writhed through his every limb. The machinery lining the walls outside the pathetic little dropship surged with electricity and either exploded or began sparking uncontrollably. For a second Riff feared the small dropship would be torn away and they would be sucked into the vacuum but thankfully it held firm against the sinister energies. The malign energy struck in horrific shrieking waves that seemed to warp reality before coursing through the bodies of the guardsmen and the legionnaires.

Through the pain and revolting sickness Riff saw Shem down on his knees with his hands over his ears. His mouth seemed to be open but whether he was screaming or trying to say something Riff couldn't tell as it was lost on the unearthly howl shrieking through his ears. Riff leapt forward and grabbed Shem's hand. With Shem's hand in his Riff hauled him to his feet before tossing him away from the main group of legionnaires. Enduring the unrelenting shrieking, Riff rushed the nearest guardsmen. His target was down on his knees like the rest when he tackled him. The guardsman didn't seem to realize that he was in a fight before Riff tore the lasrifle from his hands and took aim. An expression of blank shock formed on what remained of the guardsman's face after Riff pulled the trigger and a lasbolt burnt a crater in his forehead before exploding through the back of his head. Riff pulled the trigger again and again as he fired on the crouched forms of the guardsmen. The sound of each report was lost to the maelstrom of explosions and howling. When the howling finally ended to be replaced by the wailing of sirens the bodies of guardsmen littered the floor. Shem looked up from where he lied on the floor and froze as he saw the dead guardsmen. Riff grabbed his hand and hauled him to his feet once again. Shem seemed paralyzed for a moment, his eyes seemed stuck on the bodies splayed across the floor, before Riff shook him back to reality and looked at him.

"Run" Riff put it simply enough.

They dashed through the dozens of corridors that made up the dropship. Riff scanned the walls looking for some sort of telltale sign that an escape pod was located there. As they rounded a corner a lone guardsman froze at the end of the corridor. The guardsman hesitated, likely deciding whether or not they were friend or foe, and Riff seized the advantage. Riff dispelled any hesitation on whether or not they were friendly when he raised the lasrifle and began firing at the guardsman with abandon. Many of his shots went astray as he lacked the aim forged in years of training and battle but some found their mark sufficiently enough. Riff found himself respecting the instincts of the guardsman as he dove for cover the moment Riff raised his gun and opened fire. The lasbolts that made their mark merely grazed the guardsman's flak armor. As the guardsman rolled behind cover the moment he touched the ground he drew his lasrifle and took aim with a speed that would have left a space marine stunned. Riff tackled Shem into a corridor to their left just as the guardsman opened fire. The lasbolts burnt smoking craters into the wall behind them. Yanking up Shem as he stood up Riff prepared to run when the report of another lasrifle echoed through the corridors and the guardsman's firing abruptly ceased. The footfalls of the new shooter came closer and closer until a familiar face appeared around the corner.

"You jackass!" Arbas yelled. "You were going to leave me behind to die! Why the hell didn't you get me?!" Arbas held a lasrifle with all of the skill of the guardsman he had just killed. Riff was so utterly shocked that Arbas had just saved his life he could only stammer in response.

"E-escape p-pod." Riff muttered weakly.

"Well that sounds like a damn fine plan. Let's get out of here, things are about to get messy." Riff still sat stunned as Arbas ran ahead before regaining his senses and hauling Shem to his feet.

Riff had no idea if Arbas knew where he was going but the man ran with a purpose so he had to have some idea. The horrific energy had dissipated but Riff now wandered what it was. Sirens wailed and alarm lights cast every hallway into a hellish red glow. Arbas was running ahead when something caught Riff's eye.

"Arbas I found one!" He called down the hall. Riff took the release lever in his hand and yanked the door open. The bodies of two penal legionnaires hung limp in the crash webbing of the seats they were fastened into. Each body had a small crater where a lasbolt had ripped through their flak armor and into their flesh. A guardsman, holding a lasrifle and appearing to be talking over some kind of com or vox, stared at Riff in mute surprise before moving to take aim. The butt of Riff's lasrifles cracked into the guardsman's nose and teeth. The guardsman reeled back and dropped his lasrifle as Riff followed up by cracking the lasrifle against the guardsman's unprotected cheek. Riff brought the gun above his head as the guardsman crumpled to the floor before bringing it down on his forehead. Bone cracked and Riff brought the lasrifle up and down once again. Bone gave way as the lasrifle broke through the guardsman's skull. His body lied still as blood began to pool around his head. Riff looked back to see Shem and Arbas standing at the threshold. A blank expression was plastered across Shem's face but Arbas seemed singularly unfazed.

"Nice one kid." Arbas said as he passed Riff, stepping over the body and sprinting the rest of the way into the cockpit. Shem still stood frozen in the threshold, his gaze now turned to the bodies in the crash webbing.

"Get in." Riff instructed. He looked at the body of the fallen guardsman and yanked the lasrifle out of his lifeless grip. "And take this." Riff walked over to Shem and handed him the lasrifle. When he was sure that Shem was crossing the threshold Riff ran to the cockpit to check on Arbas. He stood hunkered over the controls examining them with a thoughtful eye.

"Are we ready?" Riff asked. Arbas stood up and looked at Riff.

"I have no idea how to fly this." Arbas said bluntly.

"What?!" Riff yelled in exasperation.

"Well what'd you expect? I was just looking for an escape pod I never said I could fly one!" Arbas looked around nervously at the controls. "But screamin' won't help us right now. Whatever we need to launch is in this control room and the controls are labeled with low gothic. So all we got to do is look for whatever is going to seal that door out there and we'll be good." Arbas began vigorously searching the main control board before settling on a large black and yellow button.

"Emergency departure," Arbas read aloud before looking back at Riff. "This is what we want." Before Riff could protest Arbas had jammed the button with his thumb and a female voice rang throughout the cockpit.

"Emergency departure initiated. Now sealing blast door." Riff heard Shem give a frightened yelp outside the cockpit as the massive blast door lowered itself down over the threshold and sealed with a hiss.

"Prepare for launch." The female voice chimed. Riff and Arbas went for their seats. Outside the escape pod's armourcrys viewport another blast door opened to reveal Herraspatia countless miles below them.

"Launching in 5…4…3…2…1." Riff pressed himself into his seat as the escape pod jettisoned them into space on a direct course for Herraspatia. Arbas, who was sitting at the controls, began searching the main control board again.

"Throne on Earth! There is an autopilot!" Arbas jabbed another button and was rewarded with the female voice stating that autopilot had been engaged and that a course was being plotted to safest landing zone on the nearest planet. Riff hoped that the escape pod's machine spirit would guide them somewhere safe.

"How long is this going to take?" Riff asked Arbas who, after activating autopilot, had leaned back with a smug look on his face.

"Not long, a few hours or more. It's a good thing we're this close to the planet or we could have been looking at quite a few days travel." Riff looked at Herraspatia and realized with a sudden thrill of horror that they were heading straight for the southern continent.

"We have to change course." Riff said immediately. Arbas looked at him suspiciously. "If we don't change course we'll be heading right into the heart of the Tyranid invasion. We have to go to the northern continent, as far away from the 'Nids as possible." Riff was starting to get worried when Arbas didn't do anything. "Change course now!" He yelled.

"Of course, the northern continent, why didn't I think of that? Seeing as the people there as well as the local Arbites are so into welcoming traitors amongst them." Arbas leaned back with another smug smile on his face.

"It's better than getting eaten alive!" The smug manner in which Arbas had chided him had really begun to piss Riff off.

"If we adjusted the course to take us to the northern continent and took the time to find a suitable landing zone it would tack on a day or two to our journey, and by then the Guard will have recovered from whatever that just was and their weapons and communications systems will be online. If they don't shoot us down then they'll send a message to ground forces telling them to shoot down any escape pods." Arbas gave Riff a look that dared him to challenge.

"They wouldn't shoot down an escape pod." Riff retorted lamely.

"They're bound to notice that there are missing escape pods and when they do they'll know that whoever is in them is either a convict or a deserter. Believe me, if we don't land fast, we'll be shot down." Arbas gave him another challenging stare and this time Riff decided to back down.

"What was that anyway?" Riff asked a few minutes later. "It was horrible."

"Don't know. But it gave us a way out." Arbas answered.

Riff decided now was a good time to check on Shem. Walking out of the cockpit Riff saw Shem snoring quietly as he was fastened into a seat with the crash webbing strapped to him. The juvie looked so different from when he first met him. Shem had lost the youthful spirit that most teenagers his age had. That drive to conquer all, surpass all, and have it all. The spirit was being replaced by a harsh survivor's will. The will to live at any cost and kill whoever or whatever is a threat. Riff decided it was best he got his sleep to. Picking out a seat far from the cockpit Riff fastened himself in and strapped the crashing webbing to him. Riff had a hard time trying to sleep at first but eventually he pushed the many problems he was surely to face to the back of his mind and drifted off.

"Incoming projectile." Riff bolted back to consciousness as the escape pod shuddered with some unknown impact. Ripping off the crash webbing and unfastening himself he ran by a stunned Shem and into the cockpit. Arbas had the controls in his hand and seemed to be jerking them in random directions as the female voice kept helpfully reporting that there were incoming projectiles.

"What're you doing out of your seat?! Sit down man!" Arbas yelled. Riff strapped himself into the only other chair in the cockpit before turning to Arbas.

"What's happening?!" Riff yelled over the constant reminders of incoming projectiles.

"We're being shot at!" Arbas responded as he jerked the controls to the left, narrowly avoiding another projectile only to be warned once again of another projectile. "They snuck up on us!"

"Who are they?!" Riff questioned while gripping his seat.

"I don't know who they are!" Arbas yelled.

"Why not?!" Riff questioned again.

"Because they snuck up on us!" Arbas jerked the controls in another direction a second too late as another explosion rocked the pod. "They just came out of nowhere and started taking potshots at us. The pod can't take too many hits, the only reason we're alive is because our friends back there are terrible shots and the ones that have actually hit detonated against the pods most armored areas." Arbas clenched his teeth as he did another lousy maneuver that somehow avoided the projectile. "While you were getting your beauty sleep I was figuring out how to fly this thing and we're lucky that our attackers are about as good at flying as they are at shooting or else we'd be dead right now. I can't, and won't, perform any complicated maneuvers."

"How long was I out?" Riff asked as the surface of the planet had gotten quite a bit closer.

"Five or six hours by my count." Arbas said. "Just enough time to learn how to turn right and how to turn left in this thing. We've been slowing down as we get closer to the atmosphere so that's a problem but hopefully our new friends aren't as stupid as they are bad shots and they'll slow down too." As Arbas finished speaking the female voice stopped warning of incoming projectiles and cut in with a new message.

"Entering atmosphere." Riff didn't feel much of a change when they entered the atmosphere but as they progressed he could just faintly hear the air rushing by at unknown speeds outside. As Arbas dodged more and more projectiles eventually their little pod had made it into the highest layer of clouds at which point the tip of the pod was glowing magma red and streaks of fire traveled along it. It was also at this point that Shem stumbled in.

"What are you doing?!" Riff yelled.

"I hear whistling! I'm not sure but I think the armor plating has been punctured!" As if on cue another blast rang against the hull and the sound of air being sucked into a vacuum roared through the pod before Arbas slammed his hand down on a button that sealed off the cockpit from the rest of the ship. The clouds went by faster and faster until finally they parted to reveal a massive jungle only interrupted by fields of crops that never seemed to end. Dozens of small towns were interspersed throughout the jungle. In the distance a great line of smoke rose up and that was all the sights the viewport could encompass.

Shem wrapped his arms around Riff's chair, holding on for his life. Riff unstrapped the crash webbing and grabbed Shem's arm. Riff sat Shem down on his lap and strapped in the crash webbing so it held both himself and Shem.

"Damn I wish I had an auspex right now! Then I'd be able to actually see where these bogies are!" Arbas yelled. He began to pull the controls up as they came closer and closer to the ground. "We're not going to make it on target! I have to land us or we're going to get blown to pieces!" Riff saw that now they were so close to the ground he could make out the individual trees. As Arbas pulled up they slowed down considerably. The same couldn't be said for their assailants.

Some flying machine that definitely wasn't made by humans sped by overhead engulfed in flames. It seemed the crew of the ship had planned on ramming their fragile little pod and had utterly overshot. The vessel went spiraling faster and faster towards the ground below where it carved a path through vast swathes of trees before erupting in a massive fiery blaze. Riff sincerely hoped that wouldn't be them in a minute or so.

Arbas pulled the controls up to their limit and even then didn't stop pulling. The first tree shattered against the hull followed by dozens more as the pod got lower and lower. Suddenly they had cleared the tree line and were flying just above a field of unknown crops. The nose of the pod touched the ground and Riff found himself closing his eyes as the hull of the pod met earth and they dug deep into the ground. Riff blessed whoever invented crash webbing as both he and Shem lurched forward to the point that Riff thought the webbing was surely to break and send them to their bloody doom on the armourcrys viewport. But sudden death never came, instead everything was silent.

Riff opened his eyes to see that the pod was buried deep in the soil of the crop field. Arbas had already unfastened himself from his seat and pressed the button to unseal the cockpit door. Shem unstrapped the crash webbing and jumped off of Riff's lap as he unfastened himself from the seat. Stepping into the main body of the ship Riff was glad Shem had gotten into the cockpit when he did. The armor plating had been blown inward by a massive explosion, the shrapnel alone had mauled the floor. Bullet holes had shredded the interior walls after the explosion had left the gaping hole in the armor plating. Shem visibly paled at how close to sudden and violent death he'd come. Arbas was fiddling with the blast door at the end of the pod for a while before they finally opened. Arbas took a hesitant first step onto Herraspatia's soil before signaling for Riff and Shem to follow.

"Make sure you don't touch the outside of the hull. Not unless you want to get burned anyway." Arbas said as he walked further into midday light. Riff took his first steps on real soil. He'd only known the harsh rockcrete streets of the hive his entire life. He couldn't help but smile as he looked up at a real sun instead of the faint glow of a luminator. His smile quickly disappeared. For the first time since Riff met him Arbas's face contorted into an expression of pure terror. Riff refused to believe what he was seeing. It was the mind tricks again it had to be. Shem couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight and yet he wore an expression of pure revulsion.

"It's a space hulk." Shem whimpered.


	7. Chapter 7: Nightfall

7

Riff had heard enough about Space Hulks to be surprised that he hadn't given up survival then and there as a futile endeavor. They were heralds of unimaginable catastrophe and death wherever they appeared and played host to both the worshippers of the great enemy and vile xenos threats. The one that hung in the void above them lived up to the stories. A vast ugly wreck that stuck out like a sore, marring Herraspatia's blue sky. What scared Riff most was that if the unholy wreck could be seen from the ground, then how close was it?

Riff's unbelieving terror was interrupted for a moment as a massive explosion shuddered through the air. Followed by a trail of thick, oily smoke a drop ship ripped across the sky. Flames belched from multiple impact craters and licked across the hull. Riff stared in dumbfounded amazement as it seemed somebody was flying the doomed ship. The drop ship's nose pulled up and it swerved as whoever was piloting it tried to keep it stable. Finally, as the drop ship's belly skimmed the trees, the pilot seemed to give up as the drop ship swayed back and forth and plummeted into the jungle carving a trail of destruction as it went. Similar events seemed to be playing out countless miles away as small dots were plummeting to earth. From the drop ships that were able to be made out all of them were in various states of damage ranging from being relatively unscathed to burnt-out wrecks.

Smaller ships began to appear in the wake of the dozens of drop ships making planetfall, which Riff immediately recognized as escape pods. Whether they carried Imperial Guard officers or Penal Legionnaires Riff didn't have time to ponder as they suddenly began erupting into balls of fire. The escape pods that weren't lucky enough to make it into the jungle were violently ripped apart under a deadly rain of bullets and some sort of missiles. Their assailants seemed to have mustered the numbers to compensate for their lack of marksmanship as a countless number of new aircrafts joined the fray. Riff sent a silent thanks to the Emperor that they'd only been pursued by one aircraft. Whenever one of the luckless pods being pursued managed to dodge a missile another one of the deadly projectiles would impact against its side immediately followed by report of a heavy machine gun.

Riff watched the dazzling carnage for a while longer before suddenly being reminded of their location and how open it was. None of the aircrafts seemed to have noticed them but when they finished with the escape pods chances were they'd be scanning for survivors. Shem was still distracted by the commotion in the sky when Riff shook him back to reality. Arbas had apparently been thinking ahead of the game as he emerged from their downed escape pod carrying two lasguns. Arbas threw one to Riff and kept the other for himself.

"Where's the other one?" Riff asked as he checked the charge on the weapon's power cell.

"Shredded." Arbas said while pinning Shem with a hard glare. Riff fought the urge to hit Shem over the head for leaving his gun in the passenger area. The juvie had probably ditched in favor of getting to the cockpit as fast as possible, but that didn't change the fact that one third of their munitions had just been reduced to scrap metal.

Riff flinched as all around them the loose soil was violently thrown into the air as a trail of bullets ripped into the ground. A shadow passed over the field as the aircraft circled around for another go. Riff swept his gaze across the field, frantically searching for a place to hide. The pod was an obvious target and trying to hide among the crops was impossible due to their bright orange outfits. Riff saw only one option.

"Get to the trees!" Riff bellowed as he ran for the closest tree line. Riff knew Arbas and Shem would follow; neither of them were stupid enough to take shelter in the pod. As Riff tore across the field the tree line seemed unfathomably far away and for a brief moment he considered turning back and taking his chances in the pod. However, the sound of bullets impacting against the ground an uncomfortable number of feet away made the tree line seem quite a bit closer.

Riff couldn't tell if their assailants were stupid or incredibly bold as they flew impossibly close. If he wasn't so busy running for his life, Riff would have tried to get a better look at the aircraft. He was able to make out the minute detail that the aircraft was scarlet red. The bark of a heavy machine gun once again roared through the air as bullets ripped up the ground around Riff. A new sound entered the cacophony that Riff recognized as the report of a lasgun. Sparing the briefest of glances behind him Riff saw that Arbas aiming down the lasgun and firing in controlled bursts as he ran. At the very least his returning fire had shown their attackers that they weren't easy targets. As suddenly as the aircraft pulled up and away from view Riff found himself immersed in the dense vegetation of the jungle. Vines, flowers, and all other sorts of plant life brushed against Riff as he sprinted further in the jungle. The rational part of his mind was telling him to stop and get his bearings while the survivor wondered whether or not their attackers had deployed any ground forces.

Riff's mad dash through the jungle came to a halt as he collided with the firm wood of a tree. After picking himself up from the ground, checking to make sure Arbas and Shem had made it, and examining his lasgun for any damage Riff observed their surroundings. Despite their negligible prospects of making it out of their current situation alive, Riff found the jungle to be strangely beautiful. Maybe it was his being accustomed to the angular and rigid forms of typical imperial structures but the intricate organic forms of the plant life surrounding him filled him with a sense of awe. The sounds of battle far above resonated hauntingly through the jungle. Riff's awe was slowly replaced by a growing sense of unease as he realized that he knew nothing of the alien jungle they were in; not to mention its inhabitants. Riff started as something moved through the jungle's thick growth before he saw Arbas trudging towards him.

"Quick thinkin' kid," Arbas said. "Now where?" Arbas was still grim faced so Riff tried to think of a better way to say "no idea" than just coming out and saying it. Riff prayed he could summon up the image of what he'd seen through the viewport but knew that even if he could it would be useless as he had no idea how relative their current position was with the image and he'd only been able to make out the most general details. All Riff really wanted to know was in what direction was the bulk of the Tyranid forces and then he could work out a plan from there.

"Well, I'm open to ideas." Riff said.

"We've got a few options from what I can gather. We can wait here in the forest and hope the Tyranids don't make it this far while playing the guessing game on which plants are safe to eat, and this is excluding local wildlife and whatever horrors that Space Hulk will be pukin' up. Or, we can head for one of the towns and pray we go unnoticed in all the chaos. Finally, we could go lookin' for one of the drop ship crash sites. Bound to be lots of ammunition and artillery that would pack a much more hefty punch than a lasgun." Arbas finished his list of near impossible ideas as he sat down on an old and decaying log.

Riff noticed that during Arbas's talk Shem had wandered over still catching his breath. Extra ammunition and weapons would be welcome at a time like this. That and Riff didn't much fancy the idea of taking their chances in one of the towns. Not that they'd even be able to find one. And anything was better than just waiting around for the Tyranids too. On the plus side, Riff doubted they'd be finding much resistance at any of the crash sites anyway. Unless, Riff thought grimly, their new airborne friends shot them down for the express purpose of looting them. Either way, a decision had to be made.

"Let's wait until nightfall. We'll be a little less easy to spot." Riff said, gesturing at his bright orange combat suit. "Then we can go look for a drop ship. That sound good?"

"I'm up for anything that'll get us through the next hour." Arbas said.

"S-sounds….g-great." Shem sputtered between ragged breaths. Riff doubted the juvie had ever gotten much running done back at the hive, which would explain his labored breathing. Riff couldn't judge him though, his chest was still heaving slightly and his heart still pounded just a little faster than normal. It took another minute or two for Shem's breathing to return to a near normal rate.

"So…what were those things?" Shem asked the question that Riff knew was on both his and Arbas's mind.

"Beats the hell out of me." Arbas said bluntly. "I was just taking pot shots at whatever it was to try and get it off our backs. Guess they weren't expectin' any retaliation." Arbas gave a grim laugh before muttering something that sounded like "frakheads".

"Well it wasn't a Tyranid." Shem pointed out obviously.

"I think we ruled that out when they started shootin' missiles at us. Besides, it was mechanical." Arbas said. The fact that there was something other than Tyranids they had to watch out for now was scary enough, but not knowing what was trying to kill you and why was even worse in Riff's opinion.

Other than their small conversation, the hours passed in a silence only interrupted by the occasional sounds of far off battles. Riff enjoyed the lull in action. The only problem was that it allowed him some time to think. Riff accepted long ago that he was an instinctual creature. He just wasn't cut from the right block to be some sort of philosopher. He took pride in the primal aspects of himself. How many men he'd soundly beaten and the scars he'd collected through the years; not that his collection of scars was anything compared to the number that marred Arbas's face alone. Riff knew a story was probably etched into every one. Maybe, Riff thought, he'd ask him one day how he got into this predicament. If they survived that long. Riff through his mind off that track and instead wiled away the hours counting how many different kinds of plants he could find.

Night inevitably fell and Riff immediately headed off in the direction he thought the crop field was. In some places, moonlight filtered through the dense canopy and lit their way through the pitch black. Even without the moonlight Riff knew they would find their way just by sticking to the faint glow of the hundreds of bioluminescent fungi lining the ground. Not that he didn't appreciate the moonlight. It helped in that they didn't go blundering into the lair of some vicious animal.

Riff knew they weren't alone as the forest had sprung to life as soon as the Herraspatia's moon had risen. The sounds of thousands of alien creatures mingled together, only broken by the harsh roars and bellows of some larger creatures. They took considerable lengths to avoid the owners of these guttural calls whenever one sounded off nearby. This didn't stop some extremely close calls however.

Riff ducked and froze as something massive tore through the undergrowth ahead. The glow of the fungi illuminated a bipedal, reptilian behemoth. Every part of the creature rippled with muscle. The alien let out a ferocious roar and lashed out with a great, taloned hand impossibly fast, neatly chopping through the trunk of a tree. Riff breathed in relief as the tree crashed to the forest floor and the creature retreated. Riff had no doubt they could have taken down the beast in a blizzard of lasbolts, but better not to bring every predator in the jungle down on their heads.

Barring that incident, they made it through the jungle alive. Riff waited, holding his breath as Arbas broke through the tree line. Arbas crouched just at the edge of the crop field and stayed there motionless for what felt like an eternity before he finally gave the signal to move forward. There was no sign of their previous flight through the field. Or, more accurately, no trace had been left to find. Vast swathes of crops had been obliterated and the field was pocked with blast craters. As they passed a crater Riff saw that whatever had exploded was still embedded in the soft earth, gently smoking. But there was no point in lingering, the object was scorched and mangled beyond recognition.

Riff found he had unconsciously hunkered down into a crouch like Arbas, who was leading them stealthily through the field. Shem was even closer to the ground and creeped at the flank of their small procession. The field was deathly silent, so much so that the cries of the jungle dwelling creatures could still be heard even when they had creeped a great distance away from the trees. The sounds of desperate battle had slowly died away.

As Riff turned his gaze to the sky he saw that the space hulk had become an ugly splotch against the moon. He couldn't begin to imagine its titanic proportions. And he didn't want to. The bigger the unholy wreck was the more it could hold, and that was an uncomfortable idea.

Riff found his attention yanked back to earth as a red glow flickered across the field. Instinctively, he threw himself flat onto the ground and found that Arbas had done the same moments earlier. Looking back Riff saw that Shem too was pressed to the ground. The hellish glow flickered across them and Riff gave silent thanks that at least they partially blended in against the illumination.

Finally, Riff mustered the courage to barely lift his head so that he could see the source of the illumination. It was a house, engulfed in flames. It made sense that there would be a house or some sort of homestead in the field; the field had to belong to somebody. Riff wouldn't be surprised if there were multiple houses. Seeing as how large and continuous the field was it likely belonged to an entire town whose populace tended to these behemoth crop fields.

Riff found himself unsure of what to do. This house and other ones like it had without a doubt been caught in the middle of the fighting, but if that were true than it would be a blasted wreck not a roaring inferno. Arbas seemed to have come to the same conclusion as he lingered and stared at the burning house as well.

Without the slightest change in expression, Arbas pointed towards the burning porch of the house. Riff couldn't tell what was wrong before it finally clicked. A lump was sprawled over the steps where the fire was slowly and relentlessly working its way to. The intense light of the inferno was cast across the porch and the lump manifested itself into a body. It was definitely a man, broad shouldered with muscles built from years of toiling in fields. He lied motionless, face down on the steps leading to the fire. The steps had a wet sheen that was reflected by the raging fire. It finally dawned on Riff that it was blood, hissing and steaming as the fire inched closer. The man was face down in his own intestines. A thick pool of blood had gathered at the bottom of the steps.

The man's family hadn't fared much better. Just a yard away from the corpse on the steps another body lied sprawled on the ground. This one was much more feminine. Its hair was in a bun and the body's form was much more curved and slim but still stocky like the corpse on the steps. Riff thought the woman might have been beautiful in life but now she was a hideously maimed corpse. A hole had been punched clear through her chest and pieces of her were scattered about randomly.

Riff knew what was next, but it still didn't make seeing it any easier. Two small forms were slumped against the ground only a few feet away from the corpse of who was undoubtedly their mother. The twin corpses were of little girls; their small dresses stained a deep red. One laid in a broken heap and the other was covered in hideous swelling lumps where she had been struck by some powerful force. Riff gagged as it seemed one had a chunk missing from her.

"Move." Arbas whispered hollowly. As Riff turned away from the horrifying scene he saw dozens upon dozens of other fires burning like beacons across the field where similar events were undoubtedly framed.

Riff felt something cold in his hands as he crawled forward. Looking down he found the shells of expended rounds littered the ground. The space hulk had disgorged its horrors onto Herraspatia; of this he was certain.


	8. Chapter 8: Fear The Xeno

8

Considerable lengths were taken to avoid the grisly funeral pyres that blazed across the field. Riff couldn't shake the image of the butchered family out of his head. Nor could he ignore the shells he'd found at the scene. After examining their size he had no doubt of what had made the hole in the woman's torso. The shells were of some monstrous caliber that Riff couldn't quite put his finger on. The shells easily dwarfed a standard stubber round two times over. e'd HHe'd brought it to Arbas's attention, but he seemed to consider it inconsequential as he forged on ahead, still grim faced.

Riff thought the field would never end, but after hours of creeping slowly forward a new tree line materialized out of the darkness. It wasn't what they were hoping for, Riff doubted any of them wanted another foray into the alien jungle, but it would have to do. Already the signs of daybreak were arriving. The pitch black that had dominated the night was becoming lighter and lighter with every passing minute and it seemed inevitable that they would have to find refuge in the jungle once again.

The jungle seemed like much less of a satisfactory bolt hole however. In their tense arrival on Herraspatia the trees had seemed like a safe haven, impenetrable walls that enemy could throw their aircrafts at. Now that the enemy was undoubtedly on the ground the jungle seemed like a prime target for rooting out any survivors. Not that there were likely to be many survivors however. It was only when Shem tapped on Riff's shoulder and pointed off into the distance that Riff felt a flutter of hope rise in his chest.

Almost invisible against the receding night sky a black smear of smoke rose into the air not too far away from their position. Looking further down the tree line Riff saw the telltale signs of a downed ship that had ploughed through the jungle. Riff pointed out the beacon of smoke to Arbas.

"Think we should chance it?" Riff asked.

"Might not be in one piece." Arbas said, contemplating their options. "But it's better than scampering off into the forest with our tails between our legs." With that Arbas led the way towards the crash site.

The ship had definitely left its mark. Trees had been either uprooted or obliterated in its crash course and the ground had been grinded and scorched where the ship had finally made landfall. The vegetation was still thick on the outskirts of the ship's path of the destruction and this was used to full advantage. Riff kept his lasgun on full-auto and close at hand should any of the wild life decide to have a go at them. Although, in reality, this was just an excuse so it wouldn't seem like he was jumping at shadows which, in the forest, were all too plentiful.

There was an acrid smell of burning metal in the air as they edged closer and closer to the crash. Riff prayed the ship wasn't too heavily damaged or else they would wind up back at square one: frakked to all hell.

Deep gouges had been carved in the earth where the ship had begun to lose momentum and dip. Large shards of metal and other various pieces of wreckage had burrowed into the ground. Riff thought he even recognized the burnt out form of an Earthshaker cannon protruding from the dirt.

Riff stopped dead in his tracks and, not quite thinking of safety at the moment, broke from his cover in the trees and rushed towards what appeared to one of the smaller troop transports that had been docked on the drop ship. Riff heard silent cursing as Arbas watched in disbelief while he ran towards the downed troop ship. It was only once Riff was out in the open that he realized daybreak had come and the rays of early morning light were glaring down on him.

Riff stopped his dash towards the troop ship when he saw the charred body draped over the threshold leading into the ship. The blast door seemed to have exploded and some unlucky guardsman had been caught in the blast. Riff choked on a burst of foul air that smelt of burnt flesh. There was another charred corpse, this one had been fused to the inside of the ship right next to the first. Riff, covering his face to prevent another intake of fetid air, scanned the corpses for any sign of a weapon. Not seeing one, he reluctantly stepped over the two bodies and into the ship.

The interior was no better than the outside. Riff gagged repeatedly as the smell of burning and rotting flesh wormed its way into his nostrils. The stench was so powerful Riff was forced to constantly blink away tears as it stung his eyes. Multiple bodies lined the walls where they'd died in their seats. Some were in the same condition as the first two, their skin blackened and whatever armor they'd been wearing melted by the explosion. The bodies in the back of the ship had escaped the worst of the damage. Most had died from the hail of shrapnel as large fragments had embedded themselves in their body.

Riff scanned each body carefully, looking for any sign of a gun clutched close to their chests. Surprisingly there was no sign of any sort of firearm. Riff was about to abandon the ship when a particular color caught his eye. Much like the rest ship, the color was dulled and blackened by the explosion but it was still much brighter than the surrounding colors. Clinging to the slumped form of an astonishingly intact body, an orange suit peaked out from beneath a flimsy flak vest.

The lack of firearms made sense as Riff examined the dead penal legionnaire. This had been one of the ships used to deploy the penal legion alongside the imperial guard companies. Firearms were going to be distributed once they made planetfall to avoid any incidents of "friendly" fire. Riff stared at the dead penal legionnaire seemingly without reason. Riff didn't know why he was lingering on the body but something wasn't right about it, he just knew he couldn't see it yet. The corpse had a particularly nasty wound in the stomach region and Riff had no doubt the man was in unimaginable pain before he died.

It finally clicked as Riff looked back at where the blast door had been blown apart. The bodies in the middle of the ship had taken the worst of the fragments leaving those unlucky few at the back to soak up the rest of the damage. There was no sign of any shrapnel on the corpse Riff stood in front of. The corpse had been disemboweled seemingly by nothing.

A shadow moved in the cockpit. Riff raised his lasgun and took aim. The armourcrys viewport was pocked with holes where bullets had ripped into the pilot. Riff could just vaguely make out the pilot's slumped body. Riff was ready to write off the shadow as a trick of the light filtering through the armourcrys when the pilot twitched. The pilot's arms shook and convulsed as his body rocked in his seat. Riff backpedaled through the ship, all the time keeping his lasgun targeted on the pilot's body.

"Riff?" Riff whipped around and saw Shem standing just outside the threshold, holding up one of his arms to cover his nose from the revolting smell. Riff immediately turned back around and trained his lasgun on the pilot's body. The body had stopped convulsing and sat dead in its chair. Riff had slowly begun backpedaling again when a shadow once again moved. Riff adjusted his aim to cover a small area of darkness just in front of the ships main controls. Something bulbous and red moved in the shadows. Materializing out of the dark, the creature plopped itself onto the floor. The first impression Riff had was of a red blob…with teeth.

Riff opened up on full-auto as the creature bounded towards him, hosing down the cockpit with lasbolts. Some of the lasbolts found their mark, striking the creature and leaving cauterized holes, but the creature moved fast and erratically, bounding from side to side as it rushed towards Riff, licking blood from its teeth and flinging drool as it went. Riff saw that the creature would be on him in seconds and it didn't seem to mind the wounds it had sustained. Turning around and lunging forward Riff threw himself from the ship and into a frightened Shem.

Shem was uncomprehending for a moment before he saw the horrible creature scrambling over the bodies at the threshold. Riff saw the beast carried itself on thick, stunted legs that ended in three toes. It used two vestigial arms, each hooked with a terribly sharp claw, to propel itself over the threshold. Riff opened up once again as the creature launched itself in blind bloodlust. Finally the lasbolts had an effect as the creature stumbled under the withering fire. Riff was astonished at how thick the beasts hide was as it relaunched its frenzied assault despite being peppered with cauterized holes.

Behind them a new burst of fire signaled Arbas had taken up his lasgun. Amazingly from his distance Arbas snapped off precision shots unlike Riff's relentless fire. A lucky lasbolt popped one of the creature's milky yellow eyes and it uttered an ear piercing screech before it rolled to a halt as its brain was cooked inside its skull.

All Riff could manage was a sigh of relief before at least six more of the vicious beasts burst from the tree line opposite of them. Riff didn't even bother shooting, he immediately tore off further down the deep gouge the drop ship had created. The beasts were fast and it would have been more than likely that he would have been slowed or tripped up by the thick vegetation of the forest.

As far as Riff could tell the creatures didn't have any sort of long range projectile. And he doubted they possessed the intelligence or the arms to wield a firearm. It was the teeth and their thick hide that worried Riff the most. Riff couldn't believe he didn't spare a thought to the idea that some opportunistic jungle predator might have infiltrated the crash looking for an easy meal.

As he dashed through the wreckage strewn about the drop ship's trail of destruction Riff heard the sound of closely following feet and knew Arbas and Shem had followed. However, when he chanced a glance back he saw only Shem being closely tailed by the small pack of creatures, still in dogged pursuit. Forcing his eyes back ahead Riff cursed Arbas's name with every foul swear and terrible oath he could think of. The bastard had cut and run as soon as the creatures had emerged from the trees and left them to be eaten, Riff raged silently in his mind.

Riff decided now was as good a time as any to take a stand. Whirling around and taking aim, Riff picked out the creature that presented the best target. The pack moved in no sort of organization, but the fiercest and toughest looking own was at the head as the rest followed in its wake. The leading creature's hide was a diseased pink and its teeth were so large that it had its mouth hanging wide open to accommodate them. Riff prayed that the Emperor himself guided his shot as he unleashed a burst of lasbolts.

The lasbolts shattered the lead creature's teeth and carried on to rip through its soft palate and explode out the back of its head. The creature fell dead midstride and the pack behind it, still consumed by a seemingly unwavering bloodlust, toppled over their fallen leader one after another, degenerating into a pile of flailing, biting, and snarling beasts. Riff seized on the opportunity and bolted up the slope of the gouge and into the trees with Shem following close behind.

Looking back, Riff saw that the pack had turned on each other and had flung into a feeding frenzy. Dark blood sprayed across the dirt as they bit and tore into one another. Not all of them had succumb to the frenzy however. It was too late when Riff noticed the creature bounding up the slope where Shem inhaling and exhaling incredibly fast.

The creature staggered and rolled almost comically down the hill as lasbolts tore into its head. Shem, having noticed the creature about as late as Riff had, scrambled the rest of the way up the slope. Turning to face the source of the sudden burst of fire, riff saw Arbas running along the slope towards them.

"Keep goin' you frakheads! There's bound to be a whole hoard of them skulkin' about and I don't wanna be here when they come down on us like the wrath of the Emperor!" Arbas yelled. Riff forgot his beef with him momentarily as they ran towards the crash site through the jungle at breakneck speed.

The sounds of the feeding frenzy dissipated as they flew through the jungle. This wasn't comforting though as Riff's mind kept drifting back to how a whole hoard of those creatures might be closing in on them at any second and they'd only managed to escape six through sheer luck. The air changed in the jungle as they dashed closer to the crash site. The smell of burning wood overpowered their nostrils and the air had become thick to the point where they had to slow their pace just to take in more manageable breaths. Riff noticed thick layers of ash coating the ground and clinging to trees.

Riff was the first to break from the cover of the trees. Thick, oily smoke still drifted upwards from the drop ship in great plumes. The drop ship had dug a deep grave for itself. Blackened trees lied on top each other in broken heaps on the slope where the drop ship had dug into the ground nose first. Blast craters flecked the ship's hull where it'd been struck by what appeared to be extremely heavy artillery.

Overall, the ship was stable. Riff wondered how long it would stay that way though. The smoke had to have been coming from somewhere but he didn't see any sort of fire. In all likelihood the fire had run out of things to burn and the smoke was just an after effect. Most of the smoke seemed to be drifting up closer to the nose of the drop ship which, Riff deduced, meant it couldn't have come into contact with any sort of fuel store. From what Riff saw, the multiple impacts hadn't cooked off any of the ammunition stores either. Unlike the blazing wreck they'd seen the day before this drop ship had made it out relatively okay. Other than crashing of course.

Riff was about to begin a more thorough examination of the ship when a commotion broke out somewhere further down the slope. A cold ball of dread formed in Riff's stomach as a group of a dozen of the bulbous creatures emerged further down the slope. They appeared to be fighting over something. Riff quickly recognized the body of a dead Dagon Elite guardsman. The creatures snarled and gnashed at each other as they pulled of gobbets of flesh from the guardsman's body. Riff shivered at how they almost ignored the flak armor the guardsman wore, tearing through it with only a few gaping bites.

Arbas and Shem stood just a few feet away on either side of Riff. Arbas crouched low and peered in every direction over the slope, looking for more of the sinister creatures. Riff felt uncomfortable being anywhere near the creatures and their foul meal and was glad when Arbas signaled for them to follow him along the slope towards the nose of the ship.

Riff's spirits plummeted as the further they moved along the slope, the more creatures appeared. It may have been a coincidence but Riff saw a pattern emerging. Large packs of the creatures were centered on any sort of opening into the ship, whether it'd been built into the ship or recently opened up by an explosion. Riff guessed that maybe the creatures weren't as dumb as they looked and this was their way of ensuring no other jungle predator could infiltrate the ship.

It was when they came to the slope that overlooked the nose of the ship that Riff knew something wasn't right. Smoke still drifted up from the hull but the main contributors to the choking plume in the sky above were the massive piles of miscellaneous debris. Most of the piles were blackened by some previous inferno whereas some were still burning.

One pile in particular was disturbing. Its contents seemed to have been blackened and fused into some intricate and organic display. Riff tried to figure out what had been used to make it. The longer he looked at it the more details he was able to pick out. It was a mountain of corpses, fused together into one mass. Melted faces were attached to stray hands and feet, bodies had been laid on top of each other to become one as they burned.

Everything was burning. Riff stared in mute horror when Shem's mouth fell open. Looking closer, Riff saw what seemed like hoards upon hoards of the bulbous creatures penned or caged in makeshift holding areas fashioned out of crudely welded together parts of the ship. Seemingly all around banners of the imperial guard were strung up haphazardly on pikes or serrated pieces of metal. Every single one was bloodied and defaced with the leering face of a skeletal bull.

Riff threw himself flat on the ground when Horrible sounds echoed from a large gash in the nose of the ship. The sounds of guttural bellows and screeching were deafening even from up on the slope. It sounded as if countless alien abominations were about to spew forth from the ship. Riff wasn't the least bit prepared when they actually did.

A carpet of small green figures rushed out of the gash barking in some harsh, nasally language. Each one carried something. Individuals lugged autoguns and an array of small devices and scrap metal, while larger groups struggled to lift heavy crates and somewhat bigger devices. Their red eyes pierced shadows and smoke and for a moment Riff feared they would be spotted. However, the green xenos were too busy running amuck to spare a glance upward.

Looking past the smoke and the carpet of shambling green imps Riff's blood froze as he saw the monsters behind them. Walls of muscle emerged from the gash. Each monstrous figure seemed to be twice the height of an average man. Each monster was decorated by a plethora of foul symbols and wore abominable armor. Some of them lifted what could only be a bolter as if it was nothing more than a pistol. Others swung vicious toothed axes and chain weapons. Their green skin was covered in scars and tattooed in places with more alien symbols and images.

Riff realized he had been holding his breath but didn't bother to exhale as seemingly hundreds of massive green figures poured out not from just the one gash but from all over the ship, lashing out at the smaller green xenos and the bulbous creatures whenever one got in their way, sometimes they lashed out seemingly from pure malice. Riff was reminded uncomfortably of how overenthusiastic the prisoner guards were with their truncheons.

Riff couldn't speak or breathe and he didn't dare to name the xenos below him as if confirming what they were would make them even more terrifying. Riff flinched as a great bellow rose up from one part of the mob that was still exiting the ship. Apparently a struggle had broken out and Riff was astonished to see the xenos carrying a guardsman. Not just any guardsman either, the struggling man had to be a colonel at least. The fact that there was a colonel on board the ship brought up the disturbing idea that this drop ship in particular had been targeted and brought down just to get the high ranking guardsman.

The colonel ripped a combat knife out of its sheath and rammed it into the nearest xeno's chest. Riff admired the colonel's precise aim as he had gone straight for the heart. The xeno flinched but that was all before it smashed its fist into the colonel and sent him flying across the dirt.

A roar rippled over the mob that chilled Riff to the bone. Stepping out of the ship a monumental abomination appeared. The beast was laden with what Riff hesitated to call augmetics. A crude metal jaw had been seemingly bolted to its lower jaw. Half of its head appeared to have been replaced with an augmetic implant. Its right arm was a massive robotic claw. The mob cleared as it stepped forward, its feet shaking the ground. Held at bay in its left hand was an impressively vicious bulbous creature, larger than any other specimen Riff had seen so far.

The colonel had nothing but a knife in hand as the beast approached him. Suddenly he began yelling at the top of his lungs.

"I DON'T FEAR YOU! I'VE FOUGHT YOUR KIND A HUNDRED TIMES OVER! THIS BLADE HAS DRANK YOUR BLOOD BEFORE AND I WILL BE MORE THAN HAPPY TO SATE ITS THIRST ONE MO-" The colonel's head rolled through the dirt. The beast had covered the distance and lopped the foolish guardsman's head off with astonishing speed. A terrible and monstrous cry rose up from the mob. Riff tried to cover his ears but even then he could still hear it.

Riff remembered the countless stories of planets stamped out of existence beneath the feet of foul green aliens. Monsters that would have part of their head blown off only to get back up and keep fighting. The horrific war cry of the army of xenos beneath Riff carried on impossibly long. Riff silently acknowledged their identity, they'd been taught aboard _The Abyssal Spear_ and he'd heard too many stories not to know what they are.

Why, Riff lamented, of all of the places in the galaxy did the Orks come to Herraspatia?


	9. Chapter 9: Never Back

9

 _980\. M41-Waaagh Magrukk consumes the Beranthial System_

 _981\. M41-Imperial Guard fails to halt Waaagh Magrukk's advance which leads to the capture of Forge World Ferrum Dento_

 _982\. M41-Waaagh Magrukk is halted by Blood Angels on Forge World Meditan Gigas_

 _983\. M41-Blood Angels successfully push Waaagh Magrukk and cut off Ork retreat_

 _983\. M41-Space Hulk appears above Meditan Gigas disgorging large Chaos force and providing escape route for Orks_

 _983\. M41-Ork controlled factories are blown and majority of Ork forces escape aboard Space Hulk dubbed "Silent Wraith"_

 _984\. M41 Meditan Gigas is cleansed of remaining hostile forces. Body of Ork warboss never recovered_

The flight through the jungle was silent. Riff didn't speak and he was glad Arbas and Shem did the same. Maybe they would talk about what they'd just seen when they found somewhere to hide. No point talking about it when a horde of Orks might be descending on them at that very moment.

The bestial cries of the Orks mingled with their impossibly loud hoots of sickening laughter and bounced through the forest. The acrid tang of burnt metal still hung around them even as the Orks' cacophony died away. Riff knew vaguely of the Ork thought process and prayed they'd head towards the Tyranid warpath searching for a fight instead of scouring the surrounding area. But, if that really was their handiwork in the field, Riff wouldn't put it above them to go off looking for some fresh meat in the meantime.

It was maybe the third or fourth hour of running when they stopped, Riff couldn't tell any more, each hour of panting and blind terror blurred into the next. Daylight beat down on them fully now and they found a steep area of jungle thicket devoid of any life to lie down. Still, even concealed in the thicket, they listened for the feral bellows of the Orks. Although Riff doubted they would hear any coming over the noise of their ragged panting. Even Arbas was on the verge of doubling over, and the flak vests weren't helping as they seemed to have an unnatural propensity for holding in heat.

"Well," Arbas breathed in between ragged intakes of breath. "If you hadn't already done it in your pants, now would be as good a time as we're gonna get to relieve ourselves." Arbas's suggestion seemed to break the tension easily enough. Besides, now that Arbas mentioned it, Riff realized how badly the pressure in his bowels had built up and found a tree on which to follow Arbas's suggestion.

Shem didn't move for a while, he hadn't made a move other than panting and occasionally blinking. Maybe the juvie was in shock, Riff thought, he wouldn't be surprised after what they'd just seen.

"So I think our best chance is looking for a space port or at least an interplanetary trade area." Arbas spoke abruptly.

"What?" Shem asked quietly.

"This planet has to export goods somehow, if we can find some sort of directions maybe we'll get lucky and find a ship that hasn't cut and run yet." Arbas leaned back against a tree.

"You're an idiot." Shem was just as surprised at himself as Riff was when he spoke up.

"And you're dead weight." Arbas spoke with a cold edge to his voice. Shem struggled to his feet, wheezing and panting.

"Piss off you dumb ugly pig!" Shem made an attempt to launch himself at Arbas but was easily deflected by simple swipe of Arbas's arm. Shem toppled to the ground but immediately pulled himself up and swung out with his fist. Shem screamed as Arbas caught his balled fist in his augmetic hand and squeezed. Shem's fingers were on the verge of twisting into obscene angles when Riff interrupted. Ripping them apart Shem rolled away and cradled his hand while Arbas relaxed back against the tree once more and closed his eyes in satisfaction.

Arbas lost his relaxed demeanor as Riff socked him across the jaw. Shem had more to worry about than his hand when Riff kicked him in the stomach. Arbas sat in a daze on the ground as blood dribbled freely down his chin and tears welled up in Shem's eye as he clutched his stomach.

"You're both idiots, you're both dumb, and you're both going to be a lot less pretty if you try something like that again." Riff flicked his gaze between the two. Arbas wiped away the blood from his lip and Shem stared ruefully up at Riff. In a way Riff respected Shem more now. He wasn't afraid to fight an opponent that completely outclassed him. Everyone had a breaking point. He wasn't sure what to make of Arbas though. It didn't help that he had a lasgun and was a far better shot than Riff was.

"He ran! He was just going to leave us to get eaten by those things!" Shem yelled.

"I saved your life you whiney little-" Arbas started.

"Only after it looked like we were going to make it! If Riff hadn't blown the big one's head off you would've cut and run and left us to die!"

"I tried to stop you two from pokin' around where we shouldn't but you weren't too keen on listening then! Besides, you two took off and I had the job off keepin' up with you and scarmblin' down the slope while tryin' to get a good aim!" Arbas bunched his augmetic hand into a fist and Riff knew he had to diffuse the situation fast.

"Who the hell gives a damn?!" Riff yelled over Shem and Arbas's bickering. That stopped them, momentarily at least. "I don't think anybody gives a flying frak that Arbas may or may not have "cut and run" because everything out here is trying to kill us. If we go back we're dead, if we stay here we're dead, if we try to find help we're dead, we can only move forward. This planet can go screw itself as long as we get off it and don't try and kill each other. We're making this up along the way, and right now the only viable option any more is finding a town that has directions to the nearest thing that can get us off planet." Shem and Arbas stood silent as the sounds of the jungle buzzed around them.

"But," Shem backed away from Arbas as he spoke. "We can't trust him. We don't know anything about him." Shem had a point, they didn't know anything about Arbas.

"Ditto, for all I know you two could be convicted serial killers." Arbas said. "I'm not saying we need any full disclosure, let's just say we trust each other enough not to shoot each other in the back of the head. Can we agree on that?" Arbas put his augmetic hand forward to shake hands, neither of them bit so he put his flesh and bone hand forward. Riff shook his hand easily enough, and Shem did too after some reluctance.

"You're not dead weight alright. We can agree on that." Arbas said, returning to his usual lax demeanor. Shem made no comment.

"We should get moving again." Riff said. They set off once more, this time at a much more controlled run, into the forest.

The first signs of civilization appeared in late afternoon. The Orks had apparently yet to scour their current position. This was disheartening in that it meant that surely they would be moving this way in search of easy prey before moving on to the real battle. However it meant that what civilization they did find was intact.

Massive fences made of the local timber had been erected. A reinforced door seemed to be the only way. This time it was Arbas who braved the unknown and opened the door. He peeked through a crack before opening it all the way and signaling Riff and Shem forward. As they crossed through the door Riff nearly bolted back through. Packed into a circle of fences was a herd of reptilian monsters. Each one was covered in jagged scales and sported wicked horns and claws. It was only the height and sturdiness of the fence surrounding the herd that eased Riff's nerves.

"Grox." Arbas called over from where he was examining a row of stalls and a shed. "No need to be afraid, they're common livestock and each one's been properly lobotomized to keep any accidents from happening. Except for these ones." Arbas banged against one of the stalls and was immediately rewarded with a crash as one of the Grox charged the door. Arbas let out a hearty laugh before he opened the shed and rifled through its contents.

"They should have-Ah!" Arbas let out a noise of triumph and held up what appeared to be a long metal rod. Shem looked at Riff in confusion but he simply shrugged and walked over to Arbas. Riff heard Shem fall in step behind him after a moment of hesitation.

"It's not a lasrifle but it'll do. This one's for you juvie." Shem rippled with annoyance when Arbas called him juvie but this was replaced with confusion when Arbas threw him the rod. Riff shared his confusion and was about to speak up before Shem beat him to the punch.

"What is this thing?" Shem examined the sharp prongs on the end.

"I'll show you." Arbas swiped the rod away and walked to the nearest stall where he smashed his hand against it repeatedly. The Grox inside roared in fury as the door shook with each impact. Flicking a button that Riff hadn't noticed on the side of the rod Arbas rammed the pronged end of the rod into stall. The Grox whimpered and squealed as it was electrocuted. Flicking the switch off, Arbas threw the rod to Shem again.

"It's obviously useless at long range but it'll damn near kill a man if you stick it in the right place." Arbas said.

Shem eyed the rod for a moment before accepting it without a word and holding it close to his side. Something came to Riff's mind as they prepared to leave.

"You said these things were lobotomized?" Riff directed his question towards Arbas. "Do they belong to a city or a town?"

"Too small to belong to a city, might belong to a town though. Seems like nothing's been used for a decent amount of time. Might be worth a look. I doubt they would have the information we need seein' as how small the herd is. I don't think all of these towns are trading towns and they might not have the routes to a station if they aren't. In which case we'd be stickin' our necks out." Arbas said. Riff came up with a plan on the spot that would suit there needs.

"We should find whatever settlement the herd belongs to and get a good look at its layout. If there aren't any natives in sight then they probably evacuated. If there are then we wait until it's night out and then find wherever they would keep information on trade export routes." Riff said.

"I'm up for it." Shem said.

"Not the worst plan I've ever heard, it'll have to do." Arbas said.

Night had fallen when they found the town. Most of it at least.


	10. Chapter 10: Ruin

10

The guardsman hadn't made it too far judging by how they were splattered on the cobblestone. Riff thought the town might have been a beautiful place before whatever happened, well, happened. The natives seemed to have a flair for integrating classic and ornate designs into their architecture. The crude but beautiful cobblestone paths were an example of this. But now blood dried in the small cracks of the cobblestone and bits and pieces of guardsman covered the outside walls of some of the houses.

Shem still seemingly had some reservations when it came to blood as Riff noticed he deliberately looked away from the messier scenes. They observed the houses from the cover of the bushes and trees, looking for any sign of movement that might betray an attacker. It was only when Riff noticed the bulkier bodies lying among the dead that he realized the guardsman had done a better job of eliminating the enemy than their current state suggested. Riff counted the bodies of at least a dozen Orks lying among the dead guardsmen.

None of them dared to move from their cover and Riff could guess why. There was no sign of any vehicle that could have borne the Orks which could only mean they likely landed some ways away and attacked the town when they happened upon it. Which led to the fear that another band of Orks could stumble upon the town. However, and Riff doubted Arbas and Shem shared the fear, Riff was secretly frightened that one of the brutes might revive to kill them when their backs were turned. That and he didn't want to approach the bodies of the fallen Orks. There was just something about them that was absolutely repulsive.

The time came however when they needed to move. A brief spark of hope was ignited when Riff spotted what appeared to be an Earthshaker Cannon, but it was quickly smothered when upon closer inspection it was only a charred wreck. It had been hastily set up from the looks of it, which likely led to its downfall. The bodies of the guardsmen were heaped in droves around sloppily constructed cover points made from overturned carts and other miscellaneous things. More than the dozen Orks Riff spotted from cover littered the ground. Ork bodies were especially frequent in the spaces between the natives' houses that the guard had used as narrow fire lanes that the Orks had blindly charged in to get at the guardsmen.

Observing everything as they went, Riff kept an eye out for any building that looked official. Riff found that "official" buildings tended to look rigid and swelled with self-importance, sort of like the courts back at the Hive and a bit like the nobles that ran them. Nothing popped out as they kept close to the shadows, just rows upon rows of houses and more scenes of brutal warfare. The battle had ended a day, maybe more, before they had arrived. The fighting had probably begun just hours after the guard made an emergency landing, judging by the number of the dead Riff guessed they'd been caught in the middle of digging in when the fighting began, with whatever forces that were left scattering.

Riff didn't blame the Dagon Elite, they were expecting the close combat style of the Tyranids and even though the Orks seemed to favor this style they had abominable alien technology to back themselves up. Of course he didn't feel pity for the Dagon Elite. Riff's eyes lingered on a pile of guardsman who had been gutted by an Ork who lied dead a few paces away and imagined his face on all of them. The Dagon Elite would have hoarded them into the line of fire like cattle just to save themselves a few more precious seconds of life. This was the stoicism of the Imperial Guard, their undying bravery.

The natives' dead began to appear with more frequency as they stalked their way towards the center of town. All of them were men who had taken up rudimentary tools no matter how blunt and set on the Orks with about as much success as Riff expected. Shem, overcoming his nausea, gazed around eagerly looking for a tool that could replace his shock pole and found nothing. He was obviously uncomfortable with his new weapon. Riff saw how he made a show of holding it tight in his grip like he was ready to skewer anything that so much as twitched but he also observed how Shem had trouble balancing the pole and was constantly adjusting it.

Riff was surprised by how relatively unscathed the town square was. A corpse laid sprawled on the ground here and there but other than that no action had found its way to the middle of town. A small church of the Emperor was wedged in a discreet corner but the square was mostly dominated by what appeared to be the town hall. They broke from the cover of shadows and crossed the square to ascend the steps to the town hall. Despite the relative lack of damage this did nothing to calm their anxiety. Riff couldn't quite tell why he preferred wading through the carnage earlier to the empty silence of the square but he did. There was something comforting about seeing the dead bodies of the enemy. So what did it mean that there were none to be seen here?

Arbas tried to suppress the low creak the door made as he opened it but failed. To Riff's ears the creak sounded off like a siren screaming out their position. Arbas immediately scanned the room beyond the door down the sight of his lasrifle before he entered himself. Shem entered next followed by Riff. The lights had gone out, not that they were going to turn them on anyway, but the moonlight that entered through the window provided some lighting. Rows of chairs filled the interior of the hall. Pictures decorated the wall perhaps showing some famous lineage that Riff didn't particularly care about. They made their way across the room, silently sticking to the wall and ducking to avoid the windows.

They came upon a row of doors and began hesitantly opening them one by one. Riff gently pushed his door open and found nothing but the tools of some janitor and the lingering smell of mold. Riff wasn't sure what Arbas had found in his door but when he turned around Shem was gesturing wildly towards his door. Shem had pulled a single box from the room, completely devoid of any noteworthy traits other than having some strange symbol printed across it. Shem tore the lid off and held up a familiar white brick. Riff breathed a sigh of relief at seeing the dozens of ration bars that the box contained, not to mention the countless other boxes stacked in the room. The subject of food had never been brought up and only now did Riff realize how desperately they were going to be needing this stockpile. His relief lasted perhaps a few precious seconds before it was ripped away.

Arbas threw the cabinet from the room with surprising strength, it crashed against the wall opposite of him. He didn't care to quiet his voice as he walked out of the room and kicked out at the cabinet.

"Unfrakkin' believable! Backwater jungle hicks can't even bother to translate!" Arbas nearly screamed as he layed into the cabinet with furious kicks.

"Shut up will you?!" Riff silently yelled at Arbas. "What's wrong?!"

"The natives apparently don't go far in their effort of translatin'! Everything is written in their common language! Look here!" Arbas ripped open the cabinet drawers and began throwing out its contents. "Papers! Packages! Boxes! Everything is written in this damned scribble!" Riff picked up a pile of papers and saw that the entire page was covered in unreadable scrawl. It could be a lunch menu or the directions to a hidden army of dreadnoughts and it still wouldn't make a difference.

Riff couldn't help but rub his hands vigorously up and down his forehead as he looked at the natives' scrawl mocking him on the paper.

"We need to stay calm. We could still use a map if we can find one." Riff said.

"And do what with it? Play the guessing game of which way is which and what place is what until we stumble on a port?" Arbas retorted.

Riff had already taken into consideration the idea that the symbols on the map would certainly be different. However deciphering the locations of major cities and other locations of that sort couldn't be too hard if they set about it the right way.

Riff noticed the small crack of light that had appeared too late. The door to the town hall slammed shut and took the ray of moonlight with it. They were already on their feet and rushing towards the door the moment it closed. They burst through the door and out into the square which echoed with hurried footsteps. Riff glimpsed a figure disappear down an alleyway and tore off in its direction, bringing his lasrifle to bear as he rushed down the alley. The stranger apparently had nowhere to go as he stood dumbfounded out in the open before Riff cracked his lasrifle across the stranger's legs. The stranger crumpled to the ground as their feet was swept out from under them and lied there. Riff aimed down his lasrifle and kept his finger hovering over the trigger. The stranger was obviously a native. Their clothes was unlike any Riff had seen. They seemed ornate, just like the houses, and yet almost tribal.

Riff tensed as the stranger sat up and looked at him. He stifled a surprised yelp when the woman locked eyes with his. Her eyes were a soft brown while being stern and challenging at the same time. She was completely bald, which Riff guessed was perhaps a native custom. Her body was slim and muscular but Riff found himself drawn to her face. It was not like the fragile faces of the joygirls he had spent much time with at the Hive, the woman's face was much stronger. Riff was reminded of the muscular corpse of the woman in the fields but quickly brought his mind back to the present.

"Stand up. Slowly" Riff commanded. The woman complied and before Riff could do anything else Arbas marched forward and began patting the woman down. Riff stopped a protest from escaping his lips when he saw the reason in Arbas's actions. Riff didn't fancy getting stabbed in the back just because he wanted to be courteous. Both the woman and Arbas drew no pleasure from it as he felt her up and down for any concealed weapon.

Finally deciding she was no threat, Arbas withdrew while still keeping her in his sights. Riff tensed as he realized he had no idea what to do at that point. He realized his stupidity at chasing down someone of who he had no inkling of understanding.

"You got a name?" Arbas asked. The woman puzzled over this for a second before she answered.

"Kadeth." The woman said with an unidentifiable accent.

"You understand us." It was a statement, not a question.

"Y-yes." Kadeth stuttered out in familiar low gothic.

"Is there anybody else here?" Arbas asked.

"Yes." Kadeth responded much more confidently.

"Lead us to them." Arbas said. "And don't try and put one over on us. We're just here looking for help." He added. Kadeth looked at them nervously for a moment and Riff feared she would make a run for it.

"Okay." Kadeth said. She began walking away at a moderate pace while Arbas followed close behind with his gun still trained on the back of her head. Riff didn't think they came off as looking for help. They probably looked like a bunch of thugs with the tattoos on their foreheads and the fact that they were prepared to shoot her if she so much as flinched wrong.

Riff was again surprised at the lack of devastation as they were led through the town. The Ork assault had apparently been confined to and halted in the front of the town. No bodies littered the streets and no damage had been inflicted on any of the houses. Riff suspected the number of survivors would be substantial, which certainly wouldn't hurt their odds at survival, especially if they could get one of them to translate their written language to low gothic.

"How rude of me, I forgot to introduce you to my friends." Arbas said. Kadeth didn't look particularly interested, but she listened anyway as she led them. "Riff is the fellow behind me and behind him you'll find Shem." Arbas said, jabbing his thumb back to point at them. Kadeth nodded in silent confirmation. Riff caught his eyes lingering on Kadeth as she walked and quickly averted them. Had it been that long since he'd seen a woman? Or was it her foreign looks. Riff shook the thought off as Kadeth led them along.

Kadeth led them to a particularly unremarkable house. It was as ornate as all the other houses and fit in with ease, which Riff guessed was why they used it as a hiding place. Kadeth opened the door and they cautiously stepped into the house. It had all the pleasantries Riff thought any other house would have, but with the foreign touch of the natives. Kadeth looked at Arbas and gestured to a rug with many intricate designs on the floor. Arbas nodded and Kadeth tore the rug away and discarded it haphazardly. A hatch door made of splintered wood was set into the floor. Arbas turned to Kadeth and began issuing instructions.

"You're gonna go down there and tell whoever else there is to get away from the hatch. Then you're gonna come back up and tell me when everybody's well away. After that…well we'll just have to see." Arbas said. Kadeth apparently understood the instructions as she threw open the hatch and climbed down.

It took her five minutes before Kadeth reappeared at the mouth of the hatch and ushered Arbas down. Arbas began climbing down as Kadeth descended followed by Riff and finally Shem. Riff was able to maneuver his lasrifle so that it didn't bother him, but Shem struggled to find the right position to carry his shock rod with until finally he sucked it up and began his descent down the hatch, being extra careful to keep clear of the rod's activation button.

Riff clung to the handholds as he made his way down in stifling darkness. He surprised at the tunnel's length but wished the natives' could have had some forethought and carved out some extra room. Riff heard Shem's quick intakes and for a moment he feared the juvie would break into a panic attack. It didn't occur to Riff that Shem might have claustrophobia. Being a hive-worlder, Riff had no problem with confined spaces but Shem had grown up in wealth, well away from the underhive's choking tunnels. However, Shem quickly brought his breathing under control and Riff silently pondered what they would find at the bottom of the tunnel.

The air was stale in the shelter and rank with the smell of something unidentifiable. Riff stood silently by Shem who held his rod at the ready. Arbas and Kadeth were only a few feet away. One lone luminator lit up the room but Riff saw some other light further away and figured others must be lighting up the shelter. The room they were in was fairly large and it reminded Riff of the rooms that had been carved out of Hell's Reach. However, this room, and if Riff had to guess the whole shelter, was colored a sickly green. The atmosphere was stifling and everything seemed to be screaming of neglect and decay. This place hadn't seen life for some time. Not human life anyway.

"What is this place?" Riff asked.

"Bunker, place to hide." Kadeth answered.

"Hide from what?" Riff questioned Kadeth again.

"Civil war, a long time ago." Kadeth said. Something about her coldness affected Riff in a way. He couldn't tell why or in what way, but it did. Then again, it only made sense she wouldn't want to do much talking to them seeing as how they had guns pointed at her.

"What's that smell?" Arbas asked as he gazed around the room.

"The bunker was built next to our sewer, just in case we were found we could escape." Kadeth said.

Arbas muttered something that sounded like "beautiful" before he gazed down a hall that led away from the room.

"How many of you are down here?" Arbas asked.

"Thirty or forty, mostly women and their children. No men, only boys." Kadeth said solemnly.

"And just where are they exactly?" Arbas tightened his finger around the lasrifle's trigger as he asked.

"In the main living quarters. I gathered them all there, not a single person was left behind. They are no threat to you." Kadeth shot Arbas a pleading look but he turned away and walked to Riff. Riff recognized the sincere look in her face and quickly dropped his eyes to avoid her face as her eyes followed Arbas.

"Hey," Arbas whispered to Riff. "How much charge does your ammo pack have?" Riff was caught off guard by the question but quickly pulled the ammo pack out and checked it.

"I think it's below seventy-five percent." Riff said.

"That should be okay, but if things go bad pick your targets." Arbas said. Riff gulped and felt himself begin to sweat.

"You can't be serious, they're just women and kids." Riff whispered urgently.

"We don't know that." Arbas said sternly. Riff admitted to himself that Arbas did have a point, there could be an armed mob waiting for them down the hall. Arbas turned to Shem who had overheard the conversation and was about as enthusiastic as Riff.

"Turn that rod on and keep it close." Arbas whispered to Shem who nodded in grim confirmation. Kadeth watched them with nervous interest.

"Alright," Arbas turned to Kadeth. "Lead the way."

Kadeth led them down the hall which looked about as sickly and old as the room before it. There were no doors of any kind, only the flickering of the ancient luminators. Occasionally, Riff thought he heard whispers echoing down the hall but he shook them off. The hall twisted and turned until finally they came upon a bolted door. Arbas took aim as Kadeth slid the latch back and opened the door. Riff couldn't see past Arbas who slowly walked forward as Kadeth hurried inside. Riff waited until Arbas had entered the room before he advanced.

There were no men as Kadeth had said, only women and children. Riff felt like he had startled an animal when the group of natives saw them. They were frightened, Riff didn't blame them. Some of the women were bald, others weren't. They wore the same style of clothing Kadeth did but they were all covered in grime and, now that Riff looked more closely, so was Kadeth. The children were the same, their little clothes were stained and smeared in places with a black substance. Riff fought down a pang of pity as he saw how they clung to their mothers. Their fathers were probably face down in their own blood just above them. The women were grim faced but still had the strong and foreign beauty that Kadeth had.

Arbas lowered his gun as Shem took his position at Riff's flank.

"My name is Arbas, and these are my friends Riff and Shem, we're lookin' for help." Arbas said as he looked at the group of women.

"Looking for help?" One woman spoke from the group. "Why should we help you?" The woman asked venomously.

"I don't wanna force you, but I will if it comes to that. We just need someone who's willin' to translate your writin' for us and we'll be on our way." Arbas said calmly. Riff wondered if the diplomatic angle would really work.

"You don't look like soldiers," another woman spoke up from the group. "We saw them fighting up above before we came down here. So what are you and where did you come from?" The woman asked.

"You're right, we're not soldiers. We just got ourselves caught up in this business." Arbas said with a little honesty.

"Liars." One woman hissed from the group. "I think you're one of them."

"Wait," Shem spoke up behind Riff. "You mean-you actually think we're with the Orks?" He asked in disbelief.

"What were they doing up there Kadeth?" The accusing woman asked Kadeth who had migrated over to the group.

"I heard them in the hall, they were making a mess of it Leum." Kadeth said to the woman named Leum.

"Looting it for your friends?" Leum shot at them.

In an instant Arbas had the lasrifle raised above his head. The seconds seemed to go by in hours as Riff saw the unthinkable about to happen before his eyes. Arbas was going to strike the woman down. But instead the lasrifle clattered to the floor at Arbas's feet.

"We're not lookin' to kill you dammit!" Arbas said loudly. "We just wanna get out of here with a map and that's it. You can stay down here as long as you want but we just wanna get our map and get goin', got it?" The group shuffled uncomfortably and the children looked up at their mothers for some kind of comfort. Kadeth turned her attention to Leum.

"We could go in the morning, find them a map and send them on their way." Kadeth said Leum. Riff knew what she was suggesting and prayed Leum agreed.

"So they would stay here for the night?" Leum asked. Kadeth nodded. "Armed strangers sleeping just walking distance away from our children?" Kadeth nodded less confidently than she had before. Leum looked skeptically at them for a moment.

"Give us your guns." Leum said.

"We're not goin' to hurt you!" Arbas roared. Some of the children pressed their faces into their mothers' legs. Riff put down his lasrifle and kicked it over to the women. Arbas hesitated a moment before kicking his discarded lasrifle over too. Shem followed suite and discarded his rod. Leum carefully picked up a lasrifle while the other two weapons were picked up by other women.

"You stay in here, and if you make to move anywhere else we'll kill you." Leum said as she glared at them. Riff knew better to object as he'd seen that glare far too many time before.

The women filed out through another hall that Riff guessed probably led to actual rooms with real beds. They had to settle against the cold wall and will themselves to sleep as the luminators flickered off. It was surprisingly easy as Riff didn't realize how tired he'd been. They were safe, that was something. If he could find an excuse to stay longer in this place he would. But for now he settled against the wall as the world faded and he drifted off to the only truly safe place anymore.


End file.
